Having connections and a certain weight,
The Elephant climbed the tribune, as of late.
“My patience with that Butterfly is wearing thin:
‘Oh, how he took off! Oh, how he fluttered in!’
Enough of this! Since I can sit, you cattle,
Your creator, sage, and beauty in this battle,
Your chairman and your father—yes, that’s me.
I’m not a camel, but I spit on you, you see.
Be still and listen to my proclamation:
That idler, that hollow Butterfly’s sensation—
Hand him over to the Spider’s rule.
I’m wise and acquainted with a few who matter, fool.
Therefore, from now on, forever and always,
You shall regard me, without delays,
As your Supreme and Lofty Butterfly.
Well? Understood? I see no need to clarify.
Remember this—rebels I don’t abide.
Turn up by chance—and you’ll be flattened at my side.
I trust there is no idiot here today
Who’d dare defend the Butterfly in any way?”
But things turned out the opposite instead:
The Rooster crowed ahead!
The Deer sounded alarm,
All creatures rose in swarm,
From aphid small to mighty rhinoceros arm.
They flooded in from every place,
And suddenly the Elephant of matchless grace,
Though meaning none of it at all,
Flew off the tribune—lighter than the Butterfly’s fall.
As for the moral of the tale:
If you’re no Elephant, frail or pale,
And wish to stay unsmeared, intact—
Forget the thing you’ve just read, in fact.