On a hot day Narcissus bent down to drink from a clear, silvery pool. As he drank, he saw a beautiful image - his own - and fell in love. He tried to kiss and embrace his reflection, encouraged because he saw the other lips raising to meet his own, but alas could not. He pined and despaired, beating his breast and, writhing about on the pool’s shore in torment, allowed his life energy to drain into the ground.
He passed away, but in his place grew a lovely yellow-centered white flower, the Narcissus.
Post Notes
-
w-ander--l-ust liked this
-
chfineartconsulting posted this
