I
The Legend of Evil
This is the sorrowful storyTold when the twilight failsAnd the monkeys walk togetherHolding their neighbours’ tails:—
“Our fathers lived in the forest,Foolish people were they,They went down to the cornlandTo teach the farmers to play.
“Our fathers frisked in the millet,Our fathers skipped in the wheat,Our fathers hung from the branches,Our fathers danced in the street.
“Then came the terrible farmers,Nothing of play they knew,Only…they caught our fathersAnd set them to labour too!
“Set them to work in the cornlandWith ploughs and sickles and flails,Put them in mud-walled prisonsAnd—cut off their beautiful tails!
“Now, we can watch our fathers,Sullen and bowed and old,Stooping over the millet,Sharing the silly mould,
“Driving a foolish furrow,Mending a muddy yoke,Sleeping in mud-walled prisons,Steeping their food in smoke.
“We may not speak to our fathers,For if the farmers knewThey would come up to the forestAnd set us to labour too.”
This is the horrible storyTold as the twilight failsAnd the monkeys walk togetherHolding their kinsmen’s tails.