Two parrots lived, a sire and son, On roastings from a royal fire. Two demigods, a son and sire, These parrots pension'd for their fun. Time tied the knot of love sincere: The sires grew to each other dear; The sons, in spite of their frivolity, Grew comrades boon, in joke and jollity; At mess they mated, hot or cool; Were fellow-scholars at a school. Which did the bird no little honour, since The boy, by king begotten, was a prince. By nature fond of birds, the prince, too, petted A sparrow, which delightfully coquetted. These rivals, both of unripe feather, One day were frolicking together: As oft befalls such little folks, A quarrel follow'd from their jokes. The sparrow, quite uncircumspect, Was by the parrot sadly peck'd; With drooping wing and bloody head, His master pick'd him up for dead, And, being quite too wroth to bear it, In heat of passion kill'd his parrot. When this sad piece of news he heard, Distracted was the parent bird. His piercing cries bespoke his pain; But cries and tears were all in vain. The talking bird had left the shore;[20] In short, he, talking now no more, Caused such a rage to seize his sire, That, lighting on the prince in ire, He put out both his eyes, And fled for safety as was wise. The bird a pine for refuge chose, And to its lofty summit rose; There, in the bosom of the skies, Enjoy'd his vengeance sweet, And scorn'd the wrath beneath his feet. Out ran the king, and cried, in soothing tone, 'Return, dear friend; what serves it to bemoan? Hate, vengeance, mourning, let us both omit. For me, it is no more than fit To own, though with an aching heart, The wrong is wholly on our part. Th' aggressor truly was my son-- My son? no; but by Fate the deed was done. Ere birth of Time, stern Destiny Had written down the sad decree, That by this sad calamity Your child should cease to live, and mine to see.