An Ass toils the year round and each season finds the Ass tired of the work and wishing the next season came around. Full circle!
Be content with your lot.
An Ass, in a hard winter, wished for a little warm weather and a mouthful of fresh grass, in exchange for a dry truss of straw and a cold lodging. In good time the warm weather and the fresh grass came on, but so much toil and business along with it, that the Ass grows quickly as sick of the Spring as he was of the Winter. He next longs for Summer, and when that comes, finds his toils and drudgery greater than in the Spring; and then be fancies he shall never be well till Autumn comes: but there again, what with carrying apples, grapes, fuel, winter provisions, and such like, he finds himself in greater trouble than ever. In fine, when he has trod the circle of the year in a course of restless labour, his last prayer is for Winter again, and that he may but take up his rest where he began his complaint.