The Wildflower

In the middle of a vast field of greenery grew a bedazzling lone Wildflower. She was born deep in the ground.

“I am so lonely. The grass is so tall, and I am so small. I wish someone noticed me… I wish I had someone to talk to…”

At first, the Wildflower was intimidated by the surrounding world. Everything seemed so new and scary. But once she started to grow towards the caressing sunlight, the Wildflower found three good friends.

The Bee was a great swordsman, a striped knight.

“I will save you from bugs and plant lice and protect you from harm with my life!”

The Wildflower was delighted that there was someone who cared for her so deeply and she loved the Bee very much.

The second friend of the Wildflower was the Butterfly. His life was even more colourful than his wings.

“Whenever you’re feeling sad, call for me and I will tell you stories about the surrounding fields and meadows and make you laugh again!”

The Butterfly’s stories were always so fascinating. Listening to him never failed to cheer the Wildflower up and because of this she loved him very much.

The third friend of the Wildflower was the bird. His voice was the most magnificent of the three friends.

“Every evening, I shall sit on this branch above your pretty little head and tell you stories of faraway lands until you cannot keep your eyes open anymore and lie down on the soft moss-covered ground. Then I will sing you to sleep.”

The Bird’s voice would echo in the Wildflower’s dreams for a long time after she had fallen asleep and the Wildflower loved her Bird more than any other feathered creature in the world.

Just as the Wildflower loved all her friends, her friends loved her, too. But while the Wildflower divided her love among her three friends equally, the Bee, the Butterfly and the Bird all loved her and only her.

“I am so loved, but… what if one day my dearest ones become rivals? … Maybe I should try to keep them apart, away from each other. I know that one day I will have to choose, but I really do not want to hurt anyone.”

And so, the Wildflower postponed the day when she had to decide between the Bee, the Bird, and the Butterfly again and again and again.

One morning the Wildflower woke up shivering and covered in dewdrops. She had just dreamt about her best friends fighting each other. Big tears rolled from her eyes and reflected the sunlight as they fell towards the ground. The Wildflower wept quietly.

The Bee, who had come by to wake up his dear Wildflower, was furious.

“Who did this to you?! Tell me, who it was, and I will avenge you!”

Wielding his sword angrily, he flew through all of the surrounding meadows to punish the culprits who hurt his precious Wildflower.

Then the Bird appeared. Seeing the Wildflower’s enormous tears, he, too, teared up. He sung some of his most beautiful songs to the Wildflower.

“Please, my darling, don’t ever be this miserable again. I cannot stand it.”

Leaving behind the snivelling Wildflower, the Bird rushed to the beach.

“I will bring you the most gorgeous seashell that has ever washed upon the golden sand.”

Lastly, the Wildflower was reached by the Butterfly. He could never see his beloved miserable. Although the Wildflower tried to hide her tears, they did not go unnoticed by the Butterfly. But he did not point this out. Instead, he began to talk about potato bugs and baby bunnies and feathers as soft as a cloud. By slipping in some humorous facts and sayings, the Butterfly soon managed to make the Wildflower chuckle out loud.

The Wildflower was grateful for finally feeling happy again and fell asleep calmly.

The Wildflower’s days were spent with her three friends. The Bee, the Butterfly and the Bird took turns visiting the Wildflower and entertained her every day. Gradually, the sun began to crawl over the sky lower and lower and the Wildflower knew that it won’t be long until winter. She decided to spend as much time as possible together with her three friends.

The mornings were spent with the Bee. He flew around the flower bud and flattered the Wildflower. The Wildflower gave the Bee her sweetest nectar and enabled the Bee’s family to swiftly fill up their winter pantry. This gave the Bee even more free time in the mornings which he spent on complimenting the Wildflower, making her rosy cheeks blush even more.

At noon, the Wildflower was visited by the Butterfly. He spoke of young boys sitting on a riverbank catching silvery fish with blood red fins and enormous bull elk bellowing in forest clearings. The Wildflower always listened to the Butterfly eagerly. She had never left her birth place. She had never seen those things.

The Bird also told his beloved about distant places. He spoke of boiling hot deserts and ice cold tundras. The Bird had often invited the Wildflower along, but the Wildflower did not dare to tell him that the roots that kept her deep in the ground would never let her leave her home alive.

When the first snowflakes started to fall, the Wildflower bid adieu to her friends. The Bee nestled away deep in his beehive, the Butterfly snuggled up between two window frames, and the Bird flew away south. The Wildflower pulled a soft white blanket over her head and fell asleep waiting for spring.

In March, the Wildflower tried to peek out of the snowy cover, but surprisingly she discovered that instead of a soft snowy blanket she was covered by cold hard ice.

“Oh my! It’s freezing outside! I am so cold! And I… I can’t breathe! Oh, please, somebody, help me!”

When the snow and ice finally melted, the Bee, the Butterfly, and the Bird hurried over to the meadow to see their loved one. In the middle of the pale colourless grass they noticed the withered Wildflower. The long and harsh winter had been too rough for the young and gentle flower. She had not made it to the first warm rays of sunshine.

The three lovers were heartbroken. The Bee, mad at the nature itself, heroically stung the first boy he came upon and died at the hands of his own victim. The colourful Butterfly, who had always been so full of life, was so disappointed by the unfairness of the world that he flew head first into an insect net and ended up in the collection of a novel entomologist.

The Bird was so devastated by the loss of his dear Wildflower that he refused to eat and drink. Gathering his last strength, the Bird took the Wildflower between his beak. He flew to the great sea that the Wildflower had always wanted to see, only to never return again.

Translation: [22.03.2019]

Original: [19.04.2013]

1 Comment

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