|
This single stick now is ingloriously lying in that neglected corner. Once it was in a forest, full of sap, leaves and boughs1; now in vain someone has tried to compete with nature by tying that withered2 bundle of twigs3 to its trunk. It is now the reverse of what it was: a tree turned upside down, the branches on the earth, and the root in the air. It is now handled by a maid, and makes other things clean but itself dirty. In the end, worn out in the service of the maids, it is either thrown out, or used as firewood. When I saw it I sighed, and said within myself: surely man is a broomstick. Nature sends him into the world strong and lusty. He wears his own hair, just like a tree with flourishing leaves and branches. Later, the axe5 of intemperance6 cuts off his green branches and leaves him a withered trunk, and he puts on a wig4 and covers himself with powder. This broomstick is proud of all the branches added to him; yet they are covered with dust. Though the dust is from the finest lady's chamber7, we ridicule8 it, and despise its vanity. We are partial judges, that is, partial to our own excellencies and other men's faults. 一根扫帚把灰溜溜地躺在无人注意的角落。 曾经在树林里，它树液充沛，枝叶繁茂;如今变了样，却还有人自作聪明，想靠手艺同大自然竞争，拿来一束枯枝捆在它的身上，结果却是枉费心机。不过是颠倒了它原来的位置，使它枝干朝地，根梢向天。它在女仆的手里使用，从此受命运摆布，把别人打扫干净，自己却落得个又脏又臭。而在女仆们的手里折腾过多次之后，或者被扔出门外，或者作为引火的柴禾被烧掉了。 | 
