The bright, joyful god Apollo knows sadness, and grief befell him. He experienced grief shortly after defeating Python. When Apollo, proud of his victory, stood over the monster killed by his arrows, he saw next to him the young god of love Eros, pulling his golden bow. Laughing, Apollo said to him:
- What do you need, child, such a formidable weapon? It’s better for me to send the smashing golden arrows with which I just killed Python. Can you be equal in glory to me, Arrowhead? Do you really want to achieve greater glory than me?
The offended Eros proudly answered Apollo:
- Your arrows, Phoebus-Apollo, do not miss, they strike everyone, but my arrow will strike you.
Eros flapped his golden wings and in the blink of an eye flew up to high Parnassus. There he took two arrows from the quiver: one - wounding the heart and evoking love, with which he pierced the heart of Apollo, the other - killing love, he shot it into the heart of the nymph Daphne, daughter of the river god Peneus.
Once he met the beautiful Daphne Apollo and fell in love with her. But as soon as Daphne saw the golden-haired Apollo, she began to run with the speed of the wind, because the arrow of Eros, killing love, pierced her heart. The silver-bowed god hurried after her.
“Stop, beautiful nymph,” cried Apollo, “why are you running from me, like a lamb pursued by a wolf?” Like a dove fleeing from an eagle, you rush! After all, I’m not your enemy! Look, you hurt your feet on the sharp thorns of the thorns. Oh wait, stop! After all, I am Apollo, the son of the thunderer Zeus, and not a mere mortal shepherd,
But the beautiful Daphne ran faster and faster. As if on wings, Apollo rushes after her. He's getting closer. It's about to catch up! Daphne feels his breath. Her strength is leaving her. Daphne prayed to her father Peneus:
- Father Penei, help me! Open up quickly, earth, and swallow me up! Oh, take this image away from me, it causes me nothing but suffering!
As soon as she said this, her limbs immediately went numb. The bark covered her tender body, her hair turned into leaves, and her arms raised to the sky turned into branches. Apollo stood sadly in front of the laurel for a long time and finally said:
“Let a wreath of only your greenery adorn my head, and from now on let you decorate both my cithara and my quiver with your leaves.” May your greenery never wither, O laurel! Stay forever green!
And the laurel quietly rustled in response to Apollo with its thick branches and, as if in agreement, bowed its green top.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru