The Story.
On the evening of a cold, rainy winter day, black
clouds fill the sky and cover the mountain peaks. The sun disk is hidden at the
far end of the horizon at sunset. The Nightingale stood at the tip of a branch
at the top of a tree of dusky trees that filled the forest.
Nightingale was not ready to sing. He was
standing silent, contemplating the sight of darkness and dim light the moment
he left.
Suddenly a small worm came out from among the
hardened tangled twigs of the cold. Their color is mixed with the color of the
trees. It has washed rainwater. They rarely go out of her house at this time
for fear of the cold and her life.
The worm said to the Nightingale: days ago I was
watching you from my nearby house, you sad Nightingale. What's wrong with you?
Why remain silent not to sing at such a time of every day?! When I see you near
my home happy. And I'm waiting to hear your sweet, sweet singing. Waiting a
long time. And remain silent.
The Nightingale looked at her tearfully. But he
didn't answer her question. Sigh a deep sigh. It's like the air comes out of
the depths of his heart. Then he turned over again where he was seen. He
contemplated the distant horizon silently. Where he sees nothing but darkness.
The green worm approached him and said: you
grieve my friend at this time of every evening for the day of your short life
to go. Right?
The sad Nightingale shook his head. He knows the
value of life and the value of time, because life is short and live long. And
knows the importance of his voice when the inhabitants of the forest of birds,
insects, wild animals and different. And even the monsters of the forest love
his beautiful voice.
The wise worm got closer. She was old. In her
soft, gentle voice, she said: I see that you have to grieve more, my son, for
another reason. Because your grief this prevents you from singing and spreading
joy throughout the forest, among its inhabitants, trees and flowers.
The Nightingale looked at her again. He didn't
understand what the worm meant to say. In his eyes he had big question marks.
But he remained silent. As usual at this time of the day.
The worm approached something slightly until it
became close to the tip of the twig on which the Nightingale stands. The twig
bent. And focus.
The Nightingale almost lost its balance and fell.
But he moved his wings. He held the tip of the twig firmly and swung in the air
and the worm swung with him and showed signs of fear. Until the twig is fixed
anew.
I laughed worm from the depths of her heart. Then she said to Nightingale, his face yellow, " see?"! You love life, confusion even in this time that saddens you. Be happy, my friend, with all the Times of life. And everyone around you. And do not succumb to grief. Tomorrow is a new day.
The Nightingale turned to her and his fear
subsided and the smile returned to his beautiful face. And he said, "
Believe You, wise worm.". I promise I won't stop singing after today. And
I'll keep singing and singing. Until I can't sing.
The worm shouted with joy a very unusual loud
voice from a worm like her until all the inhabitants of the forest heard it,
and she said: Thank You, Beautiful. Thanks. We're all in the forest love you
and love your voice.
The forest animals learned about this dialogue. She told her children about this incident. It was told generation after generation. Even today it has become one of the most famous forest stories.