When the Prince heard this he was grieved to the heart. “How couldst thou deceive me thus?” he asked.
But the Prophet replied: “Behold in thy father's gardens thou mayest daily see the unfolding of wonder trees. Doth not this same miracle happen to the fig, the date, and the pomegranate? They spring from the earth, they put out branches and leaves, they flower, they fruit,—not in a moment, perhaps, but in months and years,—but canst thou tell the difference betwixt a minute, a month, or a year in the eyes of Him with whom one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day?”
THE PROUD OAK TREE
OLD FABLE [11]
11 ([return])
[ From Deutsches Drittes Lesebuch, by W. H. Weick and C. Grebner. Copyright, 1886, by Van Antwerp, Bragg & Co. American Book Company, publishers.]
(TRANSLATED)
The oak said to the reed that grew by the river: “It is no wonder that you make such a sorrowful moaning, for you are so weak that the little wren is a burden for you, and the lightest breeze must seem like a storm-wind. Now look at me! No storm has ever been able to bow my head. You will be much safer if you grow close to my side so that I may shelter you from the wind that is now playing with my leaves.”
“Do not worry about me,” said the reed; “I have less reason to fear the wind than you have. I bow myself, but I never break. He who laughs last, laughs best!”