Grimm's Household Tales

“Where do you like best to feed your herd?” a man said to an old cowherd. “Here, sir, where the grass is neither too rich nor too poor; otherwise it is no use.” “Why not?” asked the man. “Do you hear that melancholy cry from the meadow there?” answered the cowherd. “That is the bittern. He was once a herdsman, and so was the hoopoe. I will tell you the story. The bittern pastured his herd on rich green meadows where flowers grew in abundance, so his cows became wild and unmanageable. The hoopoe drove his cattle onto high barren hills, where the wind plays with the sand, and his cows became thin and gained no strength. When it was evening and the herdsmen wanted to drive their cows homeward, the bittern could not get his together again; they were too high-spirited and ran away from him. He called, ‘Come, cows, come,’ but it was of no use; they took no notice of his calling. The hoopoe, however, could not even get his cows up on their legs, so faint and weak had they become. ‘Up, up, up,’ he screamed, but it was in vain; they remained lying on the sand. That is the way when one has no moderation. And to this day, though they have no herds now to watch, the bittern cries, ‘Come, cows, come,’ and the hoopoe, ‘Up, up, up.’”