A mule, grown fat on barley, frisked about, crying to herself, “My father is a swift-running horse, and I am just like him in every way!” One day, however, necessity forced her to run. When the race was over, she grew downcast and at once remembered that her father was an ass.
The fable shows that even if time brings us fame, we must not forget our origins, for this life is uncertain.
Ἡμίονός τις ἐκ κριθῆς παχυνθεῖσα, ἀνεσκίρτησε, καθʼ ἑαυτὴν βοῶσα· πατήρ μού ἐστιν ἵππος ὁ ταχυδρόμος, κἀγὼ δὲ αὐτῷ ὅλη ἀφωμοιώθην. Καὶ δὴ ἐν μιᾷ ἀνάγκης ἐπελθούσης, ἠναγκάζετο ἡ ἡμίονος τρέχειν· ὡς δὲ τοῦ δρόμου ἐπέπαυτο, σκυθρωπάζουσα πατρὸς τοῦ ὄνου εὐθὺς ἀνεμνήσθη.
Ὁ μῦθος δηλοῖ, ὅτι δεῖ, κἂν ὁ χρόνος ἐνέγκῃ τινὰ εἰς δόξαν, τῆς ἑαυτοῦ ἀρχῆς μὴ ἐπιλαθέσθαι· ἀβέβαιος γάρ ἐστιν ὁ βίος οὗτος.
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