[Translated from French (badly) by Google]
A Cat, named Rodilardus,
Rats such failure made,
That one did not see any almost more,
Such an amount of it had put the burial inside of it.
Little that it remained about it, not daring to leave its hole
Found to eat only the quarter of its penny;
And Rodilard passed, at the miserable race,
Not for a cat, but for a devil.
However, one day that with the top and far
The gallant one went to seek woman,
During all the Sabbath which it made with its lady,
The resident of the Rats held chapter in a corner
On the need present.
As of the access, their Senior, anybody extremely careful,
Opina which it was necessary, and earlier than later,
To attach a grelot to the neck of Rodilard;
That thus when it would go in war,
Of its walk informed, they would flee out of ground;
That it knew only this means there.
Each one was of the opinion of Mister the Senior:
Thing did not appear to them with all more salutary.
The difficulty was to attach the grelot.
One known as: "I do not go there, I am not so stupid."
The other: "I would not know."
So that without nothing to make One was left.
I have many chapters seen,
Who for nothing were thus held;
Chapters, not of rats, but chapters of monks,
Even chapters of canons.
Should one only deliberate,
The court as advisers abounds;
It is necessary to carry out,
One does not meet anybody any more.
Jean de La Fontaine