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5. Enter the Cicada
ἂμ μὲφ φωνάξει ὁ ζίζιρος ὲν ἒν καλοκαιράκιν.
Inside of you the frog and the swallow have laughed.
But if the cicada hasn’t cried, it’s not summer, 
B μὴ’ μπιστευτῇς στὸν κούβακα μουδὲ στὸ χελίδόνί.
Ἂ δὲ λαλήσῃ τζίτζικας, ὲν εἶναι καλοκαιράκι.
Don’t trust the frog or the swallow.
If the cicada doesn’t chirrup, it’s not summer. 
The implication, of course, is that the cicada is the “swallow” of the summer and the swallow the “cicada” of the spring. The cicada thus symbolizes the summer in general, just as the swallow symbolizes the spring. WD 584 θέρεος καματώδεος ὥρῃ (‘in the season of fatiguing summer’)  and the Hesiodic Shield of Herakles alike recognize the distinct seasonal associations of the cicada:
ὄζῳ ἐφεζόμενος θέρος ἀνθρώποισιν ἀείδειν
sitting on a green branch,
begins to sing of the summer to human beings, etc.
μαύρη ρώγα γυάλισι.
The cicada has chirruped,
the black grape has shone. 
The Shield gives identical information about the cicada’s cry at midsummer:
ἴδει ἐν αἰνοτάτῳ ὅτε χρόα Σείριος ἄζει,
τῆμος δὴ [κέχροισι πέρι γλῶχες τελέθοθσι
τούςτε θέρει σπείρουσιν, ὅτ᾽ ὄμφακες αἰόλλονται, etc.] 
at dawn and throughout the day
in the horrid heat, when the Dog Star dries out the skin;
at that time indeed [awns grow around the millet crop which they sow at summer-time, when unripe grapes change color (i.e., darken), etc.]
According to the Shield, the cicada’s chirruping ushers in the ripening of grapes; even more interesting, the change in color of the grapes is associated directly with the appearance of Sirius (397).
τσὶ τ᾽ ῾Αγιοῦ Λιᾶ σταφύλ᾽.
On St. Marina’s a fig
and on St. Elias’s a grape. 
E τῆς Ἁγίας Μαρίνας σῦκο
τζιαὶ τ᾽ Ἃϊ Λιᾶ σταφύλιν
τζιαὶ πορτὶ στὸ γαλευτῆρι.
On St. Marina’s a fig,
and on St. Elias’s a grape,
and a ewe at the milking pail. 
By implication, then, the date which popular tradition sets for the cicada’s auspicious chirruping coincides with the beginning of the Dog Days. We may note, finally, the significant corollary that the cicada’s cry also presages the end or slackening-off of lactation in sheep. 
κ’ ἐμὲ κουκκὶ ἀφήσετε,
κὶ’ ἂν εἶν’ καὶ δὲ μ’ ἀφήσετε,
τοῦ χρόνου νὰ μὴ ζήσετε.
Τζιτζί- βιτζί, τζιτζί- βιτζί.
My children, swim,
and leave me a morsel,
and if you don’t leave me one,
may you not live next year.
2 θερίζιτ’ ἁλουνίζιτι
κὶ μένα κλίκι κάμιτι,
’ς τὴ βρύση νὰ τοὺ βάνιτι,
νὰ ἔρτου νὰ τοὺ πάρου,
νὰ κάτσου νὰ τοὺ φάου,
νὰ πέσω νὰ πεθάνω.
καὶ μένα κλίκι κάμετε,
καὶ ρῆξτε το’ς τὴ βρύση
νὰ πάω νὰ τὸ πάρω,
νὰ κάτσω νὰ τὸ φάω
μαζὶ μὲ τὰ παιδιά μου
νὰ πέσω νὰ πεθάνω.
and bake me a cake,
and drop it by the fountain,
so that I can come get it
and sit down and eat it
along with my children
and fall down and die. 
4 Eastern Thrace
κ’ ἐγὼ τὸ κουλικάκι μου
θέλω νὰ μὲ τὸ δώσετε.
transport your bundles of wheat,
and I want you to give me
my little cake. 
τσὶ μένα κλίτσα ποίτσιτι
τσὶ κ’ς μάννας υμ μὴν ποίσιτι,
γιακὶ μὶ καταρίσκικε.
and bake me a cake,
and don’t bake one for my mother,
because she cursed me. 
καὶ μένα τὸ μεράδι μου.
and to me my portion. 
κὶ μὲ σπυρὶ ν’ ἀφήσητι.
and leave me a morsel. 
Σῦκα, σταφύλια δείξετε
καὶ ἐμεῖς ἐποθερίσαμε
νὰ πᾶμε’ς τὰ παιδάκια μας
νὰ φᾶμεν πίτταμ μέλι.
Figs, grapes, appear,
plums, start turning dark;
plums [synonym], turn black,
and we who’ve harvested
let’s go to our children
to eat cake and honey. 
These songs, it should be remembered, apparently belong to a “functionally” determined tradition which in many aspects parallels that of the swallow songs. The respective songs of the cicada and swallow operate analogously to accompany certain seasonal activities—the proffering of the “first fruits” at the formal conclusion of the harvest/threshing in the case of the cicada songs, and the ritual agermos and other symbolic actions connected with the transition to summer in the case of the swallow songs. Their content, like that of most ritual and functional songs, is engendered in large measure by the occasion to be celebrated and its attendant practices, but a further factor common to both songs is that they express a request which is followed by an offering. An offering will only naturally follow on the heels of a straightforward quête-song like the khelidonisma. But the reward in kind presupposed by the cicada-song calls for some preliminary explanation; a fuller account of the cicada’s request will be given in the section that immediately follows.
ἔψυχε μύρμηξ, ὅν θέρους σεσωρεύκει.
τέττιξ δὲ τοῦτον ἱκέτευε λιμώττων
δοῦναί τι καὐτῷ τῆς τροφῆς ὅπως ζήση.
“τί οὖν ἐποίεις “φησί “τῷ θέρει τούτῳ;”
“οὐκ ἐσχόλαζον, ἀλλὰ διετέλουν ᾄδων.”
Γελάσας δ’ ὁ μύρμηξ τόν τε πυρὸν ἐγκλείων
“χειμῶνος ὀρχοῦ” φησίν “εἰ θέρους ηὔλεις.”
which he had stored up in the summer.
A cicada, starving, begged him
to give him too some food, so that he might survive.
“Well, what were you doing,” he [the ant] asked, “over the summer?”
“I wasn’t having fun, I just sang and sang.”
The ant laughed and, withholding the grain of wheat,
replied: “Dance in the winter if you performed music in the summer.”
The τέττιξ (‘cicada’), plainly, makes a poor showing as a harvester: “τί οὖν ἐποίεις τῷ θέρει τούτῳ;” (“Well, what were you doing over the summer?”). What is more, he does not admit this; his “work” at the critical harvest-time, the cicada retorts defensively, has been his song. Reduced to penury, this creature begs for a particle of wheat (πυρός). 
The cicada experiences a complete reversal months later. He realizes in the depth of winter that he has not stored up any food. Shivering with cold and fearing that death is near, he implores the ant for a few morsels. Predictably enough, the ant rebuffs him:
We may observe in passing that the function of the Aesopic αἶνος (‘allusive tale’) and its demotic analogue is blame, or ψόγος, if we may use the Aristotelian term.  The cicada’s request in both versions prompts direct ridicule and rebuke, as well as its punishment by the ant, i.e., the denial of a morsel. Needless to say, the cicada is being blamed and punished for its implied neglect of the harvest.
The cicada is, by virtue of its heredity, perennially neglectful of the harvest (cf. ἠμέλησαν σίτων, ‘neglected their grain-supply, hence daily bread or food’) and cannot but remain ἄσιτος (lit., ‘without grain, hence food’)  much like his Aesopic and demotic counterparts. No wonder also that the Platonic τέττιξ dies singing, that is, indulging his incorrigible hedonism at the expense of his physical needs. Of course Plato would have us believe that the insect’s traditional state of hunger and thirst is actually a privileged exemption (cf. γέρας), ordained by the Muses, from biological needs and his after-life blissful. But in practical terms the cicada’s delight in song—the essence of his ἡδονή (‘pleasure’)—becomes a curse in disguise.
and bake me a cake,
lay it at the fountain,
so that I can come and get it
and sit down and eat it,
and fall down and die.
you have caught a cicada by the wing 
The Archilochean analogue may also help to explain the mechanism of blame which we briefly noted in the Aesopic αἶνος (‘allegorical tale’) and the demotic stories.
τζαὶ τοῦ λαάρη πρέπει του ἀνέμπατη κουλλούρα.
τοῦ πρωταρκάτη πρέπει του μια κούππα με τὸ μέλι
τζαὶ τοῦ λαάρη πρέπει του μιὰ πίττα κλιθθαρένη.
5 Τζαὶ τοῦ λαάρη πρέπει του καρρέττα νὰ ξαπλώννῃ
τζαὶ γύρου γύρου νὰ’μ’ μεζὲς νὰ τρώ’, νὰ ξιφαντώννῃ.
Ἡ μέση θέλει κόκκαλα τζ’ ἡ νάκρα θέλ’ ἀρκάτην
τζὶ ὅπου τὸν ὀκνιαρόττερον βάλλουν τομ πρωταρκάτην.
Σσύψε, κκιαγιᾶ, τὴγ κάρασ σου, μὲν ἰψηλώννῃς πάνω
10 τζ’ ἔν ἔσει ἀγκάλες τζαὶ ξαρκῶ
τζ’ ἐγκιὼ μὲ τὸ δεματικόν
ἐννὰ σοῦ δκιῶ ποὺ πάνω.
Ἄφησ’ τογ, κόρη, τὸ κκιαγιᾶν νὰ μᾶς λαλῇ τραούδκια,
ψηλώννει πάνω τζαὶ παντᾷ τζαὶ νάκκον τὰ κουνούπκια,
15 ἔφαν τὲς βάκλες τζὶ ὄρεξην ἔν ἔσει νὰ θερίσῃ,
θωρεῖς φεύκει μισάντακα τζαὶ πά’ νὰ κατουρήσῃ.
The head worker deserves a chicken without a tail
and the tail-end worker deserves an unleavened cake.
The head worker deserves a cup of honey
and the tail-end worker deserves a barley cake. 
5 And the tail-end worker deserves a wagon to lie on
and about him, he should have goodies to munch on while he revels.
A back needs bones and reaping calls for a worker
and whoever’s the laziest, him they assign to be the head worker.
Lower your head, assistant to the head worker, don’t unbend,—
10 there are no mown stalks yet and I’m late,
and with my bundle of sheaves
I’ll whack you on the head.
Maiden, let the assistant to the head worker sing us songs,
he rises and for a while shoos away the mosquitoes,
15 he’s had a taste of the first swath now, and he has no more appetite for reaping,—
you’d think he’s off for a piss after mowing down half a patch.
δὲ σὶ πρέπει ἀργατίνα,
μοὺν’ σὶ πρέπει σσυμπασίνα,
γιὰ νὰ κάθισι στ’ ἀνώϊα,
ἒ στ’ ἀνώϊα, στὰ κατώϊα,
κὶ νὰ τρῶς ἀρνιὰ ψημένα
κὶ κριάρια σουγκλισμένα.
You don’t deserve, Ο Marouda,
you don’t deserve to be a worker,
you only deserve to be a task-mistress,
so that you can lie about in the upper floors,
yes, in the upper floors, and in the cellar,
eating roast lamb
and rams on a spit. 
Again, a sham-reward is offered: it is her ironical designation as a ‘task-mistress’ (σουμπασίνα)—a title she does not merit. This woman’s aspect as a lingering harvester and implicitly as a gourmande suggests a parallel with the stock characters of the Cypriot song, who share similar tendencies. It is worth observing that the generic figure of the hungry, idle harvester firmly belongs to demotic tradition; and further, that this figure is probably cognate with Hesiod’s ἡμερόκοιτος ἀνήρ  (‘the man who lies in bed by day’), who, as we shall note, looks forward to a grand fiesta at the end of the harvest.