I used to play chess with the local guys,
But once I've been granted with a wild card
To visit one of exotic countries to win a purse.
Since that time I didn't have my travelling coach,
I asked a priest from the local cloister to imitate
The coached job for the sake of pro forma.

You will be surprised, my dear reader,
But when I got through to the semi-finals
My opponent there was a chimpanzee. . .
To which I lost three games in a row.
Can you believe it? It played like a master
To make me feel oppressed and miserable.

I tried to cheer up myself, reiterating, 'Relax!
Not gods but men make pot and pan,'
But looking at what it was in front of me,
I realized that I was wrong -- the haired beast
But had no match, at all. Day after day
I was cast down, the rest of my morale
Just melted before all; I panted, grew weaker
And visibly burned up in my broken guts. . .

Seeing what's going on, my newborn 'coach'
Remained to be like a cucumber calm, saying,
'You shouldn't worry so much about the finals;
Just put a bowl with juicy peaches near the board
Before you launch the immediate game; that's it.'
I did exactly what he said. As a result, I won the purse.
I'd never think, I swear, that apes love peaches
No less than playing chess or eating chestnuts
And bananas or being a nit-picker, at least.