It happened long time ago in a country that never existed. A happy country whose only inhabitants were gods of all sorts. Filled with insatiable longing for beauty, the almighty gods resolved to create a flower, a perfect flower, far more beautiful than all the flowers thriving in the endless and colourful meadows of the country. Surprisingly, the realisation of the dream appeared to be impossible, as the divine designers could not work out the shape for that perfect flower. All suggested forms fell short of their expectations. They were all too inferior. The initial enthusiasm slowly morphed into doubt and then despair, which had never been favourite emotions among gods. Suddenly, one of them cried that he had seen an ideal shape they might copy. It was...
...a tear in the eyes of one of an unhappy goddess waiting in vain for her beloved lover. Hope returned and the gods agreed to send a messenger to secretly steal a few unhappy but ideally shaped tears from the poor goddess in case the lover came back to her too early (you never know with the lovers).
Soon a number of tears were ready to be copied and give shape to the perfect flower. The gods used the most precious and durable materials to create a piece of eternal beauty. They all worked fervently but the result of their effort was far less than satisfactory. Although the flower was perfectly shaped it still looked cold and lifeless. The gods did not know why nor what to do with it when suddenly they heard a sonorous laughter from the underground kingdom. It belonged to the only god who had not been invited to collaborate on the project, the god of death. "You dared to create beauty without me? It will never work!" The ashamed company reluctantly gave the freshly finished flower to the menacing king of the dead and he slowly immersed it in the stream of water flowing across his kingdom. The cold and bleak, and odourless flower suddenly transformed into a shiny pure white, vibrant and scented blossom. Everybody was amazed at the magical metamorphosis, including the god of death. That was the moment lily of the valley was born.
However, the price was high: lily of the valley was beautiful but not eternal, as it had been designed. But the celestial gods outwitted their somber counterpart and made the perfect flower come back every spring. Its white, tear-like and wonderfully scented buds open in May and remind us that unrequited love can be equally inspirational as the reciprocated one if not more. I am not sure whether the godly source of tears is of the same optimistic opinion. As far as I know, the lover is still missing!
PS. Years ago I came across an Indian(?) legend about the fascinating creation of lily of the valley. I tried to recollect as many details of the story as possible but the task soon appeared impossible. Still, the essence of the legend is exactly the way I presented it above. All possible disfigurations reflect my faulty memory and imagination.
Soon a number of tears were ready to be copied and give shape to the perfect flower. The gods used the most precious and durable materials to create a piece of eternal beauty. They all worked fervently but the result of their effort was far less than satisfactory. Although the flower was perfectly shaped it still looked cold and lifeless. The gods did not know why nor what to do with it when suddenly they heard a sonorous laughter from the underground kingdom. It belonged to the only god who had not been invited to collaborate on the project, the god of death. "You dared to create beauty without me? It will never work!" The ashamed company reluctantly gave the freshly finished flower to the menacing king of the dead and he slowly immersed it in the stream of water flowing across his kingdom. The cold and bleak, and odourless flower suddenly transformed into a shiny pure white, vibrant and scented blossom. Everybody was amazed at the magical metamorphosis, including the god of death. That was the moment lily of the valley was born.
However, the price was high: lily of the valley was beautiful but not eternal, as it had been designed. But the celestial gods outwitted their somber counterpart and made the perfect flower come back every spring. Its white, tear-like and wonderfully scented buds open in May and remind us that unrequited love can be equally inspirational as the reciprocated one if not more. I am not sure whether the godly source of tears is of the same optimistic opinion. As far as I know, the lover is still missing!
PS. Years ago I came across an Indian(?) legend about the fascinating creation of lily of the valley. I tried to recollect as many details of the story as possible but the task soon appeared impossible. Still, the essence of the legend is exactly the way I presented it above. All possible disfigurations reflect my faulty memory and imagination.
Jarek
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