One day he returned. But it was different, sad.
- You changed - said the Girl!
- I know, he said. - I lost the joy. No more I want to fly!
- How did this happen? - Asked the Girl.
- I'm old. ...- I'm not like was he replied.
- Who told you this?
- The mirror ...
With these words, the bird took out his feathers a mirror of gold and began to contemplate his face.
- I do not remember this mirror - said the Girl.
- Was this from someone! Left to my door - Bird explained.
"The bird was a different!" The girl thought. She had never seen it looking in a mirror. His eyes were always full of worlds, mountains and snow fields, forests and seas ... So full of worlds, there was no place for them their own image. But now it was as if the worlds no longer exist. Bird's eyes were filled with his own reflection. The girl noticed that her bird was bewitched. Surely someone with envy, as the stepmother of Snow White. And what better instrument to the terrible spell that a mirror? More terrible than the cages. From inside the cage all want to leave, but in the mirrors all want to stay.
The Girl saddened ... And swore he would do anything to break any spell.
But she knew nothing of spells. He then sought the advice of an old magician, who revealed to him the secrets of all spells.
- A person becomes bewitched when he becomes incapable of love. And for that, there is nothing stronger than a mirror. The mirror makes people only see themselves. And who sees only his own reflection can’t love. Sickens and dies. Narcissus died so bewitched by their beauty, reflected in the source water. And the beauty of White's stepmother, reflected in the mirror, which transformed the beautiful woman in ugly witch! Against the spell of the mirror there is only one remedy: we need to rediscover the love, stay in love again. Only love has enough power to get people out of the trap in the mirror. But there's no revenue ... Only someone who loves the bewitched person can save it ...
The girl thought that maybe the things that Bird had always loved in the past, would have the power to make you love now, in the present. And he remembered the joy he had in the fruit orchard. Then brought him the most wanted: persimmons, cherries, mangoes, pomegranates, jabuticabas, tangerines, those who watched the childhood memories hidden in his flesh. But the bird refused to eat. Fruit was not hungry. His mouth was asleep, as if there ... Only had eyes, eyes that stared at the mirror in search of lost beauty, absent ...
The girl did not give up. Decided to try seduction perfume. The scents are subtle: go deep, deep in the soul. He remembered that Bird loved the good smell of the plants. He then went to the garden and there plucked jasmine flowers, magnolia, honeysuckle flower, the emperor and the mint leaves, basil, rosemary and rosemary ... "Oh," she thought, "there warlock that endures to perfumes, as they enter the soul, where even the thoughts and bewitching eyes can reach ..."
But Bird also became unable to perceive the scent. He was all eyes, looking for a lost image ...
- My sorrow lives in a place deeper than the place of the perfume, he explained to the girl.
- I miss myself, what once was. Looking in the mirror, face a past, a lost time ... And the sadness is so, because I know that you can’t find again!
The girl thought, then, that science could help. Doctors searched near and far and returned home full of pills and injections full of joy. But miracles were short and joy would be as soon as arrived.
- My illness is not the body - said the Bird - She lives in the soul. If I do not fly, not because my wings were weak. They were weak because they no longer want to fly. And when desire is gone, will also be the joy ... And then the body ages!
The girl, crying, asked him:
- But there is no cure for sadness?
- I know there - said Bird. - But in a place far away (or is very near?), I do not know where it is. But to get there is to learn to fly. Have you ever flown? - Asked the Bird Girl.
- Fly me? I am a girl, I have no wings ...
- But you've got wings - he said. - And do not even realize ... It's wings girls, unlike the wings of birds and butterflies, are not seen with the eyes. Are invisible ... Can only be seen through the eyes of imagination!
The girl had never thought of it, that one day she would have wings. It seemed so absurd! And suddenly remembered ... A gift many years ago that his bird had brought one of his trips: a colorful, a little girl with butterfly wings, leading flew over the surface of a lake. And she asked him in amazement:
- A girl with wings?
And the bird replied:
- But you never realized that the wings are starting to grow on your back?
And they both laughed with happiness.
That's right: it was time that would have to start flying.
- Whom should I contact? - She asked.
- Look for those who can fly: the poets. They have wings magic words at all and are called poems! ...
And the girl went in search of a remedy that takes you back the joy to the soul, to give lightness to the body ...
She found a poet and placed your order. The poet looked at her with a look of kindness and said:
- I can’t fulfill your order. Also I'm looking for. You know why I am a poet? Because I feel at all just a hint of joy. But she goes too fast, mixed with sadness. Passes quickly as the Wind ... Even a poet has said:
Light, very light,
A wind passes,
And it will always be very light! ...
So is the joy ....
We sang when she appears. Well we want to be magicians to call it and distribute them around the world ... But we can’t help it! Perhaps the monks ... They have wings of light ... Reportedly discovered the secret of joy! ...
The girl loved the poet and even wanted to stay with him longer. But he remembered his Bird ... And continued. He flew high, very high for the summit of a snowy mountain and desert, where monks were devoted to the search for God.
- Si, Girl, God is the supreme joy. Sometimes we feel. But it goes fast, very fast. As the sun that you put. And nothing can stop it. Passes quickly as the beauty of dusk. You know why we made our monastery so high? For the joy of the setting sun takes a little longer. We want the beauty of light that goes where God dwells, where he lives joy. Come with me ...
And taking her by the hand led her to a temple, holy place ... And twilight is filtered by the stained glass of many colors ...
- Here's how to enter by the stained glass. How sweet that joy. But soon the night comes and goes. With the night comes sorrow and fear ... Fortunately, with the sunrise, she returns. The crying lasts one night, but joy cometh in the morning ... We are thus caught between sadness and joy that comes from running away ... No, Girl, we could not hold the joy. We can only learn to sing when she comes ... Perhaps the revolutionaries, who want to build heaven on earth. They have wings of fire! ...
The girl he loved men and found those beautiful what they were doing, celebrating the light that comes and goes ... Wanted to stay. But Bird was a sad, down, waiting for her. He opened his wings and went in search of the revolutionaries. He found them in the mountains. They lived in the heights, not because they wanted to climb to the stars as the monks, but because they wanted to descend to the valleys. They loved the land and it would give their lives.
- How would you like to have the answer to your question, Girl - one said, enigmatic face, a strange combination of toughness and tenderness. - I know what it takes away the joy. The bodies hungry, persecuted, suffered, the poor and weak - ah, how difficult it is to rejoice! Hunger, pain, disease, injustice are all enemies of joy. And for this we prepare the way: breaking the sword, burn the boots, open prisons, distribute land, forgive the debts ... This we know to do. But joy is something magic that comes from within, not outside. What we do is prepare the ground for it to come from the depths of where you live. She lives in the place of dreams, where our can’t go! To have joy we must dream. But we do not know this secret. Maybe the interpreters of dreams ... They have wings of moonlight! ...
The girl loved the hard face and suit of the man, admired his courage, but he felt a slight sadness in his speech. Also he had not found joy. Spread your wings ... It was getting tired. And went in search of the interpreters of dreams.
Dreams: How are foreign ... Appear at night when we sleep. They come from very deep, where there live our desires at bay. They are entities timid. Only appear with the brightness of the moon ...
- Ah! Girl, you ask us about the secret of joy. We know it is in dreams that it performs as expected when the return of their beloved. Before it is nostalgia, emptiness. After the hug. Joy is this: to embrace what you love. But we must first know, first, the name of that love. And it is this name that appears in disguise in dreams. Tell us the dreams of your bird!
But the bird had stopped dreaming.
- So we can’t help it. But we know that those who are lovers dream. They have wings made of longing. Maybe they will tell you the secret! ...
And the girl he left, sad. I was tired, far away from his beloved bird ... And he thought it would be better to be with him in his sorrow. And inside the longing grew, aching, a desire to return ...
Far away, the bird looked in the mirror and cried the signs of time saved on his face and the only thing he saw was his own image. Suddenly, however, something went deep in his soul, Like a light wind, very light, or a ray of sunshine twilight, a small flame of fire in the cold of the mountains, a beautiful dream, through the night. .. And he remembered the girl. Where was she? Left on the table the mirror and went in search of signs of their absence, the perfume of flowers, taste the fruit, the empty room ... There was, of all places, the presence of his absence. And in that body, so long dead in the mirror, Desire grew, her face smiled, opened his wings and flew it was heavy ...
He has risen ...
And each of them left, ignoring what the other was in search of reunion ...
The spell was broken.
Were in love.
Flying light, the wind, with the wings of nostalgia ...
And both brought in the brightness of the eyes, the signs of eternal youth that years can not erase ... For those who are in love, not never grow old ...
O dia chegou
15 years ago
