In the forest, high up on the steep (陡峭的)shore, and not far from the open sea, stood a very old oak tree. It was three hundred and sixty-five years old. But that long time feels like the same number of days to us. We wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night, and we have our dreams. The tree's life is different; it has to stay awake for three seasons of a year and only gets to rest during winter.
During warm summers, the short-lived flies, called ephemera, would fly around the old tree, enjoying life and feeling happy. If one of the tiny creatures (生物) ever rested on one of the tree's large leaves, the oak would say, "Poor little creature! Your whole life lasts only for a single day. It must be quite sad. "
"What do you mean? "the ephemera would always reply. "Everything around me is so wonderfully bright, and warm, and beautiful, and it makes me so happy. "
"But only for one day, and then it is all over. "
"Over? "repeated the fly. "What is the meaning of over'? Are you 'over'too? "
"I will probably live for thousands of days, and my day lasts for whole seasons. It is so long that you could never imagine it. "
"No? Well, I don't understand. You may have thousands of days, but they don't change much. I have thousands of moments in which I can be joyful and happy. So, I have a question for you: Does all the beauty of the world disappear when you die? "
"No, "replied the tree, "it will certainly last much longer than I can even think of. "
"Well, then, "said the little fly, "we have the same time to live; only we have different ways of counting it. "
The ephemera danced happily with its wings in the air, rejoicing in the sweet delights around it. The long and beautiful day seemed to it so full of joy. Finally, when the sun sank low, it felt tired of all its happiness, and its wings could no longer carry it. It gently glided (滑) down onto the soft grass. With a nodof its little head, it was peacefully and sweetly fast asleep —the fly was dead.
(Adapted from The Last Dream of Old Oak)
