La Licorne

MY DONKEY

My father beats it, and my brothers surpass him in that.

As for me, I am to stay away from the donkey, or it might run me over, ...so they say.

In the mornings they use it for moving bags to the market.

Sitting in the shade the lot will wait for customers to come, or hang around the place for a chat, here and there.

To bridge the spell for the donkey they will let it to the men of the quarry.

Those, that will tie pairs of rocks over its back and make it go uphill to the stock-pile on the road side.

In the process the donkey gets a rest as long as it takes the men to gather the boulders from its back.

Then it will trot back to the mine, up and down, all day long.

By the time they bring the grey-one back, Dad will be dozy from Chat and Arak, my brothers loud from Tela.

The unsold merchandise will be packed on the donkey, and all will reach home before dark.

As for myself, after the meal I will sneak over to the pen, where the donkey is waiting for me.

There I will tell it stories of the rich boy's donkey, whose job it was to ride the lad, just now and then.

The donkey listens and begs for more.

Then I come with the story of the girl that dropped in the quarry to be saved by a boy with a donkey.

When I pass that one on, the donkey grins and gives me a head-nod.

The donkey of my father is my donkey. 

 

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