Pan was proud of his flute playing. One day he challenged Apollo himself to a competition. It was on the slopes of Mount Tmola. The judge was the god of this mountain. In a purple cloak, with a golden cithara in his hands and a laurel wreath, Apollo appeared at the competition. Pan was the first to start the competition. The simple sounds of his shepherd's pipe were heard, they gently rushed along the slopes of Tmol. Pan finished. When the echoes of his pipe fell silent, Apollo struck the golden strings of his cithara. The majestic sounds of divine music poured out. Everyone standing around, enchanted, listened to Apollo’s music. The golden strings of the cithara thundered solemnly, all nature plunged into deep silence, and in the midst of the silence a melody full of wondrous beauty flowed in a wide wave. Apollo finished; the last sounds of his cithara died away. The god of Mount Tmola awarded Apollo victory. Everyone praised the great kifared god. Only Midas did not admire the game of Apollo, but praised the simple game of Pan. Apollo became angry, grabbed Midas by the ears and pulled them out. Since then, Midas has donkey ears, which he diligently hides under a large turban. And the saddened Pan, defeated by Apollo, retreated deeper into the thicket of the forests; The tender sounds of his pipe are often heard there, full of sadness, and young nymphs listen to them with love.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru