the lovebird and the swan скачать в хорошем качестве

the lovebird and the swan

#flstudio #music Two birds sit by a lake One bonded to the trees. One bound to the water. There is only a faint breeze and a familiar smell of dew cradled in the wind. It beckons stubborn leaves that refuse to fall, as if trying to avoid the same fate. The one in the tree holds a peculiar object in its beak. What have you there? The one in the water asks. “A seed of the plum blossom. In time, it will flower. I shall carry it into the spring.” The swan drifts gracefully across the lake, beads of water rolling off its feathers that join back into the depths below. You choose to carry in your beak such a thing? Long has it been since I’ve heard your voice among these trees. “I carry what I must. There is beauty to behold once it blooms. And once that moment arrives, it will surely be worth singing for.” The swan does not respond. The lovebird tends to the rough edges of the seed. Where is your other half? “When the cold passes, and the lakes are steady. When the flowers bloom just bright enough, perhaps on the edge of Spring. I wait until they are ready.” It is indefinite. And still, you choose to wait? “Patience is a virtue, is it not?” The swan does not answer. It ponders into the distance, gliding along clusters of reeds that move solely with the wind, the rustles of their dance the only constant. …The leaves remain long after autumn. “Because they are alive, and one with the tree” No. They are only attached. “But they were once beautiful together.” The leaves catch the snow that burdens the branch. “…It’s bowing under the weight.” Yes. The sky is pale. All that is left is the moon, and the unending stirring of water against rocks. A tree that worships its leaves would certainly not survive if it fights the natural season. The soils would deplete, and energy siphoned to keep its beauty alive. “There is sacrifice in love. And there is beauty in sacrifice.” To sacrifice is to lose something in return. And to love truly is to lose fully. But it is never a cost. “Then it is worth fighting to keep something beautiful.” There is beauty in the ephemeral. “But there is beauty in eternity.” I cannot refute that statement. But even stagnation can exist in an eternal spring. The seed falls, plummeting into a resting place among the early frost-ridden reeds. “Then when does the winter end? When is it devotion and not just my fear of leaving?” …Perseverance is often mistaken for purpose. It is a tricky endeavour. “When can I struggle? When can I proclaim my loyalty and not just my habit of staying? ..What defines me if not the very love that burdens me?” The swan opens its mouth and answers, and a gentle flutter of wind blows past, and the swan flies away. And in that moment, the lovebird learns: “Not everything that persists is worth holding on to.”