A woman in the road wails, "Help me!"
She carries a bundle of straw, has carried it far
without so much as a sip of water or a crust.

From the woods, Fox hears her cry:
"Tie up half the bundle with your rope.
I'm a fast runner and can carry it in my teeth."

But the woman says no:

"Thank you for offering,
but, as you know, in all the stories
the fox is an unreliable animal.
Of course that's not necessarily you,
but I can't take any chances."

She staggers on, whimpering,
"I am alone, all alone."

Crow sees her and says:
"For me, it is easy.
I'll take as much of your bundle
as my beak will hold
and fly with it over the fields."

 The woman says thanks but no thanks:

"Even if flying were safe, which it isn't,
I see how you turn your head
to look sideways with your one shiny eye.
That could be trouble, looking while flying.
If the straw fell, that's it--lost forever."

 

More miles, and the woman moans,
"Who is listening? Who will take
just one straw from my back?"

From the lake, Fish replies:
"I'm the best swimmer in the river.
Give me a straw and I will swim
with it to the other side."

The woman pauses, then says:

"I know it's just one, but even one can be hard.
What if you found it too tiring
and began to resent my demand?
Also, water ruins straw,
and each straw is important to me." 

The woman trudges on, carrying the bundle.

Fox slinks through the forest.
Crow flies high overhead.
Fish disappears in a flash of silver.

The bundle bends the woman,
bends her, like the willow, in two.