Parable of Leo and Taurus    

When, in the inexorable rhythm of day and night, the earth had been cultivated, in which the plough, as was its destiny, had torn its furrows, and the seed that had been planted in it had brought forth promising fruit with the rain of the sky and the rays of the sun, another year was drawing to a close.

The sun and the bull had done their part to bring the task, once entrusted to them together by God, to the path of maturity. Time after time, changing winds had demanded serious constancy and also bitter diligence from them. Often the sun had had to make its way for its rays through heavy clouds, often the bull had had to wheeze its way through stony ground before the plough. That was how the world was made. But now, after sometimes sweet, sometimes hard work of summer, the time of harvest and enjoyment seemed to have come.

"Now at last," thought the bull, "we may live on our toil and receive the blessing. For good and renewing is life in its return."

"Are you not tired of the eternal ploughing, sowing and reaping? Is there no better?" the extinguishing sun asked him, turning away, quaking by weariness.

But the bull, shaken by knowledge, for he had understood well, replied after a very long silence: "How could I be weary by my destiny? Is not its blessing in constancy, worthy of all toil?"

But he was full of grief and without arrogance.

G. St.

german