Dear Haijin, visitors and travelers,
Another new episode of our haibun feature is at hand now. This two weeks I have chosen for the next theme for your haibun
fairytale. So please write your own fairytale-haibun and share it with us all here on Carpe Diem.
To inspire you all I have copied an earlier post of my at the beginning of Carpe Diem. The prompt then was Nightingale and I shared the fairytale of the Nightingale ... I love to share that fairytale again here and I have 're-done' it to a haibun form.
The
Nightingale
Once upon a
time in China there was a great emperor. His palace was the most beautiful in
the world, and was surrounded by a garden with the most beautiful flowers. They
had pretty silver bells tied to them, which tinkled so that everyone who passed
could not help noticing them. Nearby, there was a forest that was home to a
nightingale that sang so beautifully even the fishermen, who had so much to do,
would stop to listen.
Travelers
from every country in the world came to the city of the emperor, which they
admired very much. When the visitors heard the nightingale, they all declared
it to be the most wondrous of all.
between flowering trees
a Nightingale is singing it's song
for the joy of the world
The emperor
had never heard of this nightingale. When he heard travelers speak of it, he
said, “What is this? I know nothing of any nightingale. Is there such a bird in
my empire?”
The emperor
demanded that the nightingale be brought to him.
But where
was the nightingale to be found? All of his lords-in-waiting looked high and
low for the famous bird but were unable to find it.
At last, a
poor little girl in the kitchen said, “Oh, yes, I know the nightingale quite
well; indeed, she can sing. She lives down by the seashore.”
“Please
lead us to the nightingale,” said a lord-in-waiting. So she did.
“My
excellent little nightingale,” said the lord-in-waiting, “I have the great
pleasure of inviting you to a court festival this evening, where the emperor
can hear your charming song.”
“My song
sounds best in the green wood,” said the bird. But still she came willingly
when she heard the emperor's wish.
At the
festival, the nightingale sang so sweetly that tears came into the emperor's
eyes and rolled down his cheeks. Her song touched everyone's heart.
Nightingale's song
hits me deep down inside of me -
tears rolling down
The
nightingale's visit was so successful that she was now to remain at court, to
have her own cage, with liberty to go out twice a day and once during the
night. Twelve servants were appointed to attend her on these occasions. Each
servant held her by a silk cord fastened to her leg. There was certainly not
much pleasure for the nightingale in this kind of flying.
One day the
emperor received a large packet on which was written, “The Nightingale.” Inside
was an artificial nightingale made to look like the living bird and covered
with diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. As soon as the artificial bird was wound up,
it could sing like the real one and could move its tail, which sparkled with
silver and gold, up and down. It was a gift from the emperor of Japan.
This new bird was as successful as the real
bird, and it was even prettier to look at. It sang without ever getting tired.
The people would gladly have heard it again, but the emperor said the living
nightingale should sing something. But where was she? No one noticed when she
flew out of the open window, back to the forest.
artificial bird
wound up to sing it's song -
the sound of water
The emperor
missed the real nightingale, but the music-master praised the artificial bird.
He said it was even better than a real nightingale, not only because of its
beauty but also because of its musical power.
“With a
real nightingale we can never tell what is going to be sung, but with this bird
everything is settled. It can be opened and explained, so that people can
understand how the waltzes are formed, and why one note follows upon another,”
said the music-master.
So, the
real nightingale was banished from the empire, and the artificial bird placed
on a silk cushion close to the emperor's bed. A year passed, and the emperor,
the court, and all the people knew every little turn in the artificial bird's
song. For that same reason, it pleased them better. They could sing with the bird,
which they often did. One evening, when the artificial bird was singing and the
emperor lay in bed, something inside the bird popped. Then a spring cracked and
the music stopped.
The emperor
immediately sprang out of bed and called for his doctor. But what could he do?
Then they sent for a watchmaker. After a great deal of talking and examination,
the bird was sort of fixed. But the watchmaker said that it must be used very
carefully because the bird's mechanism was getting old and it would be impossible
to put in a new one without injuring the music. The bird could only be played
once a year.
what a sadness
artificial Nightingale's broken -
faraway birdsong
Five years
passed, and a real sadness came upon the land. The emperor was ill and not
expected to live much longer. Cold and pale, he stayed in his royal bed. One day,
the emperor awoke with a strange weight on his chest. He opened his eyes and
saw Death sitting there. He had put on the emperor's golden crown, and held in
one hand his sword of state, and in the other his beautiful banner. All around
the bed and peeping through the long velvet curtains, were a number of strange
heads — some very ugly, and others lovely and gentle-looking. These were the
emperor's good and bad deeds that now stared him in the face.
Death
continued to stare at the emperor with his cold, hollow eyes, and the room was
fearfully still. Suddenly there came through the open window the sound of sweet
music. Outside, on the branch of a tree, sat the living nightingale. She had
heard of the emperor's illness and had come to sing to him of hope and trust.
And as she sang, the shadows grew paler and the blood in the emperor's veins
flowed more rapidly, giving life to his weak limbs. Even Death himself
listened, and said, “Go on, little nightingale, go on.”
“Then will
you give me the beautiful golden sword and that rich banner? And will you give
me the emperor's crown?” said the bird.
Nightingale sings again
on the windowsill of my room
bearer of joy
Death gave
up each of these treasures for a song, and the nightingale continued her
singing. Soon, Death floated out through the window in the form of a cold,
white mist.
“Thank you
heavenly little bird. I know you well. I banished you from my kingdom once. Yet
you have charmed away the evil faces from my bed, and banished Death from my
heart. How can I reward you?”
“You have
already rewarded me,” said the nightingale. “I shall never forget that I drew
tears from your eyes the first time I sang to you. These are the jewels that
rejoice a singer's heart. But now sleep, and grow strong and well again. I will
sing to you again.”
And as she
sung, the emperor fell into a sweet sleep. When he awoke, he was strengthened
and restored.
“You must
always remain with me,” said the emperor. “You shall sing only when it pleases
you; and I will break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces.”
“No, don't
do that,” replied the nightingale. “The bird did very well as long as it could.
Keep it here. I cannot live in the palace, but let me come when I like. I will
sit on a bough outside your window, in the evening, and sing to you.” Then
the Nightingale flew away.
The
servants now came in to look after the emperor. To their tremendous joy and
astonishment, there he stood, healthy, saying a happy good morning.
finally healthy
artificial nature's not good -
the song of birds
Well ... that was my fairytale-haibun The Nightingale and I hope it will inspire you to write your own 'fairytale'-haibun.
This episode of Carpe Diem's Kamishibai will stay on 'till September 6th 11.59 AM (CET). Have fun, be inspired and share your haibun with us all here on Carpe Diem.
Namaste
