Once upon a time, a boy came from the land of the Sun, emerging from an endless expanse of water; he sang so wonderfully that people began to flock from all over to listen and look at him. The boy's name was Milomaki.
But whoever heard his songs returned home and died as soon as they ate some fish. Then the relatives of the victims seized Milomaki. By that time he had already become a young man. They lit a huge fire to burn him as a sorcerer who killed their loved ones.
However, Milomaki continued to sing his beautiful songs until the last minute, and when the flames engulfed his body, he sang:
- And so I die, my son, I leave this world...
Milomaki's body tensed, taking in all the heat of the flame, but his wonderful voice still sounded:
- And now my body disappears, now I’m dead...
And his body turned to ashes. He died, consumed by the flames. But Milomaki's soul soared to heaven. And it so happened that on the same day, an oblong green sprout grew from his ashes, growing not just by days, but by hours. It stretched higher and higher and almost the next day it turned into a tall tree. This is how the first pashiuba palm appeared. There were no such palm trees before. From the Pashiuba tree, people began to make large flutes that reproduced the beautiful melodies of the songs that Milomaki sang in the old days.
Even today, when fruits ripen in the jungle, men always play the flute, dance and observe abstinence, in memory of Milomaki, who gave birth to fruit trees. However, women and children should not look at these flutes, otherwise they are destined to die.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru