Bowing his flexible neck towards the mirror of the water, the swan peered at its reflection for a long time. He understood the reason for the fatigue and chills that permeated his entire body, as if in winter cold. Now he knew for certain that the hour had struck, and the inevitable time had come to say goodbye to life.
His feathers were as beautiful and snow-white as in the distant years of his youth. He managed to carry his robe in spotless purity through all life’s adversities and trials, through heat and cold. And now he was ready to end his days calmly and with dignity. Curving his beautiful neck, he slowly and majestically swam up to the old weeping willow, under whose shade he used to like to wait out the summer heat.
Evening fell and the sunset colored the calm waters of the lake purple. In the deep evening silence that reigned around, swan singing was heard. Never before had a swan sung with such heartfelt sincerity and aching melancholy. He sang with inspiration about his love for nature, sky, water, earth.
“The swan is singing,” whispered the fish, birds and all other inhabitants of the fields, forests and meadows, enchanted by the farewell song. - This is the song of a dying swan.
A tender, sad song echoed throughout the area and died away with the last rays of the sun.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru