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Little Silky woke up sulky.
Standing on his hind-legs he felt tippy.
All around him his siblings were busy;
Eating nothing but heaps of mulberry.
"Why are you feeding us my dear maiden?
What is in your mind while being patient?
Do I not deserve an answer?" cried the silkworm.
"Where are my neighbours with their silk oh so laden?"
But the factory owner refused to answer.
A sly smile, then her eyes seemed wide and tender.
With gentle fingers she cleared the leaves and picked up Little Silky;
For a moment he could see the worm-farm and even farther.
Ocean of mulberry trees stretched out to the horizon;
With million of silkworms clinging and feeding like prawns.
From tiny hairline babies to oversized yellow adults;
Their lives resembled an orgy of one big eating marathon!!
"This is meaningless," complained the silkworm.
"I will stop eating until I can really come to term."
Thinner and thinner Little Silky had become;
But under the wrinkly skin his mind was steadily firm.
"You are starving yourself for no good reason.
You will only bring forth your own desperation!!"
Little Silky lifted his head and looked around;
But there was just the wind touching rows of moving curtains.
"Over here on the ground," said Little Anty.
"Stop looking for meaning that is way too fancy.
Our purpose in life is to work, work, and work.
Spit your silk so people can look pretty and pansy."
"Eat till your belly bloat yellow and transparent.
Weave your cocoon just like your long lost parents.
When they put you all dressed into boiling water;
It's only to kill you and make the silk more softened."
"Arrrrh!!" screamed the silkworm his white coat ashen.
"I am not ready to meet my Maker up there in heaven!!"
Without a word Silky started to eat and make his retreat;
Into the shadow and behind the mulberry curtain haven.
Legend has it that of all the silkworms abound in the farm;
Only one broken cocoon was ever left on the ground.
On a bright moon-lit night above the ocean of mulberry trees;
There was a little moth celebrating its freedom newly found.
後語 Postscript: 如蠶作繭,自困其身
Standing on his hind-legs he felt tippy.
All around him his siblings were busy;
Eating nothing but heaps of mulberry.
"Why are you feeding us my dear maiden?
What is in your mind while being patient?
Do I not deserve an answer?" cried the silkworm.
"Where are my neighbours with their silk oh so laden?"
But the factory owner refused to answer.
A sly smile, then her eyes seemed wide and tender.
With gentle fingers she cleared the leaves and picked up Little Silky;
For a moment he could see the worm-farm and even farther.
Ocean of mulberry trees stretched out to the horizon;
With million of silkworms clinging and feeding like prawns.
From tiny hairline babies to oversized yellow adults;
Their lives resembled an orgy of one big eating marathon!!
"This is meaningless," complained the silkworm.
"I will stop eating until I can really come to term."
Thinner and thinner Little Silky had become;
But under the wrinkly skin his mind was steadily firm.
"You are starving yourself for no good reason.
You will only bring forth your own desperation!!"
Little Silky lifted his head and looked around;
But there was just the wind touching rows of moving curtains.
"Over here on the ground," said Little Anty.
"Stop looking for meaning that is way too fancy.
Our purpose in life is to work, work, and work.
Spit your silk so people can look pretty and pansy."
"Eat till your belly bloat yellow and transparent.
Weave your cocoon just like your long lost parents.
When they put you all dressed into boiling water;
It's only to kill you and make the silk more softened."
"Arrrrh!!" screamed the silkworm his white coat ashen.
"I am not ready to meet my Maker up there in heaven!!"
Without a word Silky started to eat and make his retreat;
Into the shadow and behind the mulberry curtain haven.
Legend has it that of all the silkworms abound in the farm;
Only one broken cocoon was ever left on the ground.
On a bright moon-lit night above the ocean of mulberry trees;
There was a little moth celebrating its freedom newly found.
後語 Postscript: 如蠶作繭,自困其身
唐白居易:「燭蛾誰救護，蠶繭自纏縈」
宋代陸游:「人生如春蠶，作繭自縛裡」
以上是我回憶葉聖陶1931的童話【蠶兒和螞蟻】之後的感想。但我不敢保証故事是以蠶兒變為飛蛾而完結。如果您有葉聖陶的原文,請供諸同好。
The above is based on my memory of Yeh Sheng-Tao's children story "The Silkworm and the Ant" written in 1931. However, I cannot say with certainty that the story eneded actually with the silkworm metmorphorsizing into a moth. If anyone has the original text, please feel free to share.
(攝影图片 ∕ Photograph image: (Wikipedia) 作繭自困 ∕ Silkworm cocoons)
宋代陸游:「人生如春蠶，作繭自縛裡」
以上是我回憶葉聖陶1931的童話【蠶兒和螞蟻】之後的感想。但我不敢保証故事是以蠶兒變為飛蛾而完結。如果您有葉聖陶的原文,請供諸同好。
The above is based on my memory of Yeh Sheng-Tao's children story "The Silkworm and the Ant" written in 1931. However, I cannot say with certainty that the story eneded actually with the silkworm metmorphorsizing into a moth. If anyone has the original text, please feel free to share.
(攝影图片 ∕ Photograph image: (Wikipedia) 作繭自困 ∕ Silkworm cocoons)
6 comments:
I didn't hear the story before, but it is a beautiful poem you wrote.
My Aunt got my sister and me few silkworms in a shoebox when we were little. I still remember they turned into cocoons and then merged as fat hairy moths. I wonder if they were too fat to fly. They stayed in the shoebox and mated and mated until they died. What a life!
Keith: I believe that was the authour's issue back in 1931 - most silkworms died in hot water and never grew to become moths. At least your moths died grinning.
Eh, I did raise silkworms when I was small. Most of them successfully turned into moths. I was really amazed by the nature of life. And I loved watching them eating mulberry leaves.
Xiao Zhu: Me too - it was indeed very educational to learn abt life and nature !! Do kids raise silkworms now-a-days in HK?
Hmmm I guess rarely.
Xiao Xhu: There is a general concern that many pre-teens and teens are out of touch with nature because they are so focused on the virtual and materialistic world. I am saying this as an opinion rather than a judgment.
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