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The Song of the Nightingale

By , Basel, Switzerland
Silvery flakes drifted down, glistening in the light of the full moon. The nightingale sang her bewitching song as the forbidden lovers passed beneath her perch on the old sycamore tree. A line of wet tears dripped down the girl’s pale face. The nightingale could hear their passionate whispers and leaned in closer to listen to their declarations of love.



“I wish we could freeze time and stay in this moment forever,” the boy sighed. He took the girl’s hand and held it as if he would never let go. He gazed into her eyes as if he would never stop seeing her. But he would. The nightingale knew this and her heart reached out to the couple that were forbidden to love each other.


“I wish we could go for walks together without worrying about people seeing us,” the girl longed sorrowfully, “I wish you could court me and take me out for dinner, chaperoned of course. I wish you could ask my father for my hand and he would say yes because he knew you were good for me. I wish things were different.” The nightingale observed the girl as she gazed into the stars with longing and desire.


“At least we have now,” the boy whispered tenderly, “For now you are mine. For now we can pretend that no fatuous lord is about to take you away and make you his.” He held her in an embrace that was both warm and loving, but too soon she wiggled out of it and looked up at him with puffy eyes.


“Two weeks,” the girl sniffed, “Two weeks and I’m getting married. Except not to you.” The boy kissed the back of her hand and sighed because he couldn’t give her all the things her future husband could.


“If only I was an earl or a lord or something,” he murmured miserably, “I could make you my wife and give you everything you deserve.” The girl smiled sadly and pulled him closer to her.


“I don’t want more dresses and trinkets,” she responded decisively, “All I want is you.” She turned and caressed his face with her small hands. The boy’s face lit up beneath her touch and then he suddenly grabbed her hand eagerly. The nightingale saw the guilt and pain written all over her face and hoped that she wouldn’t hurt the boy.


“Let’s run away together,” he suggested excitedly, “Just me and you. No one to judge us, no one to keep us apart. I know, it won’t be paradise at first and we’d both have to work but ---


“No!” the girl interrupted hurriedly. She bit her lip and turned away from him. The nightingale saw more tears fall from her round, hazel eyes and she rubbed them away with a shaky hand, “I…I c-can’t. You know I can’t. My parents watch my every move now. I was barely able to escape to see you tonight. And there’s my sister…I have to stay for her. I have to make sure she is married to someone she can at least grow to love, not some old bachelor with grey whiskers and a walking stick. I love you, more than you know, but I have a duty.” At these last words she turned to look at his crestfallen face.


“Is this why you asked to meet me?” he asked quietly, “It wasn’t to profess your love for me was it? It was to squash it. To squash it like it never existed. I may be only a servant boy but I am much more deserving of you than that pig-headed lord will ever be!” The nightingale watched as the boy started walking away from the girl. She was still watching when the girl screamed his name and ran after him. She watched even as they shared one final passionate moment under the full moon. They exchanged one last kiss and whispered ‘I love you’ into each other’s ears. And then they walked their separate ways leaving behind a love so pure and real it was heart-breaking.


The nightingale sang one more song into the night. This one was sad and lonely. Her song was heard by the girl, who silently cried into her pillow and wished for a different life. The boy, already getting ready for a hard day of work, also heard her song and listened thinking of the girl who he’d always love and never forget. As the morning sun rose the nightingale flew on, but she never forget those lovers and every time she saw a couple together she would fly closer to see if it was them, but it never was.



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loveiduckies said...
Feb. 6 at 4:32 pm:
There;s something about this piece that I just love. Maybe it's how original it is. Maybe it's how touching it is. Or maybe it's the ending and how it drew me in wanting to know more. Whatever it is this piece was amazing. Way to go
 
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