Liber parabolarum

If anyone takes care to plow his little field for profit,

And afterward entrust his seed to it,

Let him first uproot the thorns that harm the crops,

And cut with a sickle the brambles, if any are there.

Ferns too are harmful; he strives to destroy the harmful ferns

Who wishes to purify his crops.

No field brings forth anything but what its seed provides;

Filth springs up where the dung runs riot.

Watchful care tends fields well, while neglect indeed

Renders them barren; whence the poet says:

On neglected fields the fern grows up to be burned.

By the fern he denotes a man's own vice.

That man does not know what sweetness sweet food holds,

Who has never learned what hunger itself might be.

After the burning of thirst, after hunger, these two things

Are very sweet to us: drink itself, and food.

Honey clings more sweetly to the human palate,

If a bad taste has bitten it beforehand.

He who suffers cold reveres warm garments,

He who has suffered great illness rejoices at the lot of health.

Let him who considers the false goods of earth alone, and the goods of heaven,

Set the false ones wholly aside, and seek the true goods.

Let him strip his heart of the world's unlawful things and mischances,

Who wishes to secure a place beforehand in the heavens.

That man does not live well whom anxiety over things

Torments, and whom fear wears out night and day.

He does not sleep securely who fears to lose his life

Along with the things which he himself possesses.

Whence we read that by an example a king showed

That he was not (as his servant said) happy:

Led to the table, above his own head a sword

Hung, held barely by a thin thread;

He ordered him to eat, along with the feast; but he

Did not dare, since he saw death on every side;

So he said: this is my case, always fearing a fall and a mischance,

To die, for certain, either by my own hand or an enemy's.

A bad companion draws his companion to bad deeds, and thus

He who was formerly good becomes bad and worthless.

Nor is it any wonder, since hope runs swifter toward evil

Than toward that work which God wishes to be done.

A weight seeks the depths more easily than it rises to the heights,

Which oxen's necks can scarcely drag from the ground;

Are not oxen who draw carts sometimes drawn themselves,

While the wheel, moved on a downward path, rushes on;

While this one pulls upward as much as he is able, that other pulls downward,

This one hinders him, and he often falls backward.

For a path taken from a lofty summit is more prone

Than one that climbs back up from a sunken valley.

If a wild beast, a stranger to the woods, should by chance show

Rabies among a crowd, will it not perish there?

Do they not die by the bites of serpents, those

Whom the road or chance draws in among them?

Who but a serpent associates with serpents,

Since they sting grievously whatever clings to them?

Flowers wither, and grasses are killed

Which poisons, poured out by mere touch, burn away.

The Marsian people place their children in doubt among these,

Wishing to know in this way whether they are truly born of them;

For it is said that serpents spare only those,

While with the charms of their mouth they befriend them.

While you are able to bend, or straighten a bent twig,

See that the young plant is trained to your liking.

When it has grown old and set firm in great strength,

You will not easily bend that imperial head.

Again, if you allow a bent thing to rise up first crooked,

It will always remain as crooked as it was at first.

So while man is a boy, let him be taught to hold to what is right,

Lest he steep his heart in the evils he grows used to.

However much the potter may change wet clay,

He cannot impose a new shape on it once dry.

The young hound barks at a deer's hide throughout the house

At first, so that, once trained, it may be able to enter the woods.

You will see three kinds of servants serving in three ways,

Not three at once to one master, but rather to three different ones.

For there is one who, trusting in the wage of the life to come,

Submits himself to the commands and service of God:

This one is not a slave, since he who bears the reins of wholesome

Justice will be free and exalted.

There is also one who obeys, subject to a wretched little man,

As once the first fathers established it;

Yet the imperious master does not wholly subjugate this one to himself,

The inner man is not held bound by chains.

The third is a slave, who always obeys vice,

Who now thinks he stands, now falls, seeking the depths.

What remains certain for him, but death and death's own image?

This always follows him; this holds him, and this drags him on.

This one lives wholly a slave in both ways.

So that a wall may be made level by the plumb-line, it is needful,

Lest the house collapse when this very thing fails.

How can the frame of a tottering wall stand,

If a weak foundation fails under its burden?

By like reason, if anyone strives toward the lofty arts,

He must know in his heart that he needs the elementary parts first.

The ancient poets learned the elementary parts before the arts,

And for that reason they earned great honor.

First writing plain prose, and afterward composing verse.

Reaching out, they placed their hands beneath the rod;

Wisdom, once they were steeped in these elements, led them to Athens,

By constantly frequenting the crossroads of the quadrivium.

Restrain your unlawful passions, pitiable boy,

Know that the enemy stirs them up to bring about death.

Take your mind away from these things, and look upon their wretched sorrows;

Other things must be pondered by you more than these.

Be mindful that you will be dust, that you will be food for worms,

When you will lie rotting in the cold earth.

There will be no one in the world who will wish to look on you further,

When your flesh, more foul than a dog's, lies broken.

Why do you cut off your own head with your own sword, why do you willingly

Run into the demon's chains? Why do you do his bidding?

Stand firm against the passions that constantly rise up,

And let him not overcome you who thinks to overcome you thus.

Alas! why does man seek so much while he passes like a shadow,

Why does he carry pride, who is and will be ash?

Why does he desire, and fear, and why does he try to subject

All things to himself? Why does he always seek to live here?

Not so, no; since that expectation perishes again and again,

The dew falls, and life rushes back down to its depths;

So stands man; or tell me by what deed the rest holds firm,

What more are they? Each thing is vain, and each is nothing.