It took place in a world long long ago they say:

a monkey, a rabbit, and a fox struck up a friendship,

morning frolicking field and hill,

evenings coming home to the forest,

living thus while the years went by,

when Indra, sovereign of the skies,

hearing of this,

curious to know if it was true,

turned himself into an old man,

tottering along,

made his way to where they were.

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"You three," he said, "are of separate species

yet play together with a single heart.

If what I've heard is true,

pray save an old man who's hungry!"

then he set his staff aside,

sat down to rest.

---

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Simple enough, they said, and presently

the monkey appeared from the grove behind

bearing nuts he'd gathered there,

and the fox returned from the rivulet in front,

clamped in his jaws a fish he'd caught.

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But the rabbit,

though he hopped and hopped everywhere

couldn't find anything at all,

while the others cursed him

because his heart was not like theirs.

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Miserable me! he thought,

and then he said

"Monkey, go cut me firewood!

Fox, build me a fire with it!"

and when they'd done what he'd asked,

he flung himself into the midst of the flames,

made himself an offering

for an unknown man.

---

When the old man saw this his heart withered.

He looked up to the sky,

cried aloud,

then sank to the ground,

and in a while,

beating his breast, said to the others,

---

"Each of you three friends has done his best,

but what the rabbit did touches me the most!"

---

Then he made the rabbit whole again

and gathering the dead body up in his arms,

took it and laid it to rest in the palace of the moon.

---

From that time till now

the story's been told,

this tale of

how the rabbit came to be in the moon,

---

and even I

when I hear it

find the tears

soaking the sleeve of my robe.

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.......

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