Two donkeys were tied together. On either side, about five meters away, its owner had put two heaps of green and rich alfalfa. Clumsy, like donkeys that were, beset by hunger, they insisted on eating each one of the pile that they had closer. So many were the cravings to eat, both the effort to throw each one by his side, so much the stubbornness and stubbornness and so much his selfishness, that they ran out without tasting anything. A point were, each on his side, to touch with his nose the grass opposite but failed. That increased his suffering, his anguish and his useless effort.
They spent an hour, until, exhausted by hunger, work and anger, fell to the ground two fingers (two fingers only!) Of alfalfa.
Two cows that passed by, in marvelous camaraderie, stopped and, with intelligent parsimony, liquidated one of the piles and, afterwards, with identical understanding, they finished with the second one.
Alfonso Francia. "Life stories".
