The Cobbler and the Banker

There was a merry Cobbler once
who sang from morn till night.
‘T was joy to hear him sing his best,
it was a lovely sight.

His neighbour on the other hand
was rarely into song.
His clothes were pricey but alas,
he couldn’t sleep for long.

This man, a Banker, thought that sleep
should be like goods for sale,
a market place for forty winks
like bread and curly kale!

Our Banker grumbled in his house,
the palace he had made.
One day he asked the Cobbler up
to talk about his trade.

“What do you earn,” our Banker asked,
“from one year to the next?”
Our Cobbler laughed “I’ve no idea,”
and looked downright perplexed!

“My wages are not regular.
I live from day to day.
I’m glad if my ends meet at all.
Your path is not my way.”

Our Banker paled and asked his friend,
“Explain, please do reply,
d’you have good days and bad as well?
Please can you tell me why?”

The Cobbler smiled. “The trouble is,
we’re bothered by the priest.
If we don’t go to church, it’s hell,
I don’t care in the least!”

The Banker laughed, “Oh simple man,
today you will be King.
Take these sovereigns,
here they are, and take this golden ring.”

The Cobbler seized the golden coins
with happiness and joy,
but sadly lost the lovely voice
he’d sung with since a boy!

For sleep departed from his shack.
Watchful, worried sick,
suspicious, he then recognized
he’d liked his life on tick!

He’d liked his voice and lovely sleep
that now the Banker had.
He’d liked his merry Cobbler friends,
girls too, – he was a lad.

He ran towards the Banker’s house
the gold coins in a sack.
The Cobbler said “Just could you please,
dear Banker, take them back!”

If you want to listen to the audio version of this story, based on my translation and adaptation of Aesop’s and La Fontaine’s version , you can hear it below.