The Old Man and the Three Young Men
"The Old Man and the Three Young Men" is a short story by Jean de La Fontaine that explores the themes of wisdom, age, and the futility of human vanity. The narrative revolves around an elderly man and three young men who boast about their fruit trees. They invite the old man to view their thriving plants, symbolizing their youth and strength. However, the old man brings them to his barren fig tree, explaining that despite its outward appearance, it holds precious treasure inside. Indeed, he uncovers a pot of gold beneath the tree, teaching the young men that things are not always as they seem and that true value often lies beneath the surface.
An Old Man, planting a tree, was met By three joyous youths of the village near, Who cried, "It is dotage a tree to set At your years, sir, for it will not bear, Unless you reach Methuselah's age: To build a tomb were much more sage; But why, in any case, burden your days With care for other people's enjoyment? 'Tis for you to repent of your evil ways: To care for the future is our employment!" Then the aged man replies-- "All slowly grows, but quickly dies. It matters not if then or now You die or I; we all must bow, Soon, soon, before the destinies. And tell me which of you, I pray, Is sure to see another day? Or whether e'en the youngest shall Survive this moment's interval? My great grandchildren, ages hence, Shall bless this tree's benevolence. And if you seek to make it plain That pleasing others is no gain, I, for my part, truly say I taste this tree's ripe fruit to-day, And hope to do so often yet. Nor should I be surprised to see-- Though, truly, with sincere regret-- The sunrise gild your tombstones three." These words were stern but bitter truths: For one of these adventurous youths, Intent to seek a distant land, Was drowned, just as he left the strand; The second, filled with martial zeal, Bore weapons for the common weal, And in a battle met the lot Of falling by a random shot. The third one from a tree-top fell, And broke his neck.--The Old Sage, then, Weeping for the three Young Men, Upon their tomb wrote what I tell.
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