The sky is falling
Who has nothing has nothing to lose but those who have a lot at stake always engage him to die a heroic death for their ills.” Le sage, en hésitant, tourne autour du tombeau…” This reminds me of a story:
The news spread fast, like fire in the bushes! Timur the Lame, the angry ghost of Genghis Khan had vanquished the great sultan Bayazid the Thunder at Ankara and locked him up in an iron cage. Now, a new, terrible Padishah was wielding his sceptre over Anatolia.
The good people of Aksehir rushed to pack their humble belongings and roved in all directions like headless chicken.
"The new King is coming upon us! Flee! Flee!"
Nasreddin all alone was resting peacefully under his porch, in the shade of the wine, sipping honey-sweet tea and exchanging thoughts with his donkey. As they did not know where to go, the frightened villagers soon gathered by the Mullah's fence, wondering at his strange tranquility.
"What are you doing, Hoça? Don't you want to save yourself before Tamerlane arrives?"
"I am conferring with my loyal donkey," explained Nasreddin. "He just reminded me of a tale of Aesop, the wise dwarf, my ancestor, who lived here one thousand years before us, when this land was still called Phrygia."
"A peasant, “the donkey said to me,” was grazing his mule by the gates of a fortress when he heard a great noise of weapons and shields.
"Let's run, let’s save ourselves before the enemy catches us, called the peasant.”
"Will they load me with two saddles instead of one?” The mule asked.
"How could they, stupid? There is only room for one on your back!
"If this is so, replied the mule, then you run, and I can stay."
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| Bayazid in Timur's cage |
The good people of Aksehir rushed to pack their humble belongings and roved in all directions like headless chicken.
"The new King is coming upon us! Flee! Flee!"
Nasreddin all alone was resting peacefully under his porch, in the shade of the wine, sipping honey-sweet tea and exchanging thoughts with his donkey. As they did not know where to go, the frightened villagers soon gathered by the Mullah's fence, wondering at his strange tranquility.
"What are you doing, Hoça? Don't you want to save yourself before Tamerlane arrives?"
"I am conferring with my loyal donkey," explained Nasreddin. "He just reminded me of a tale of Aesop, the wise dwarf, my ancestor, who lived here one thousand years before us, when this land was still called Phrygia."
"A peasant, “the donkey said to me,” was grazing his mule by the gates of a fortress when he heard a great noise of weapons and shields.
"Let's run, let’s save ourselves before the enemy catches us, called the peasant.”
"Will they load me with two saddles instead of one?” The mule asked.
"How could they, stupid? There is only room for one on your back!
"If this is so, replied the mule, then you run, and I can stay."
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