The Call to Tell a Story

Now, storyteller with your wakeful mind, weave together one graceful, elegant tale. When words come measured out with wisdom, they bring peace to the soul of the one who sings them. Whoever holds an unwholesome thought, his judgment goes rotten from that very sickness. He twists himself into a cross of shame, and disgraces himself before the wise. But no one sees his own faults; your own nature seems all bright and clear to you. If you want justice to endure and last, from now on refine your words and let them shine to the wise. When the wise approve, a thing becomes praiseworthy; let the stream flow through you clear as tears. Now read the story from the old sage's words, and tell it to those who love the truth. These tales, grown old through my telling, turn young again in every gathering. If my life stretches long enough, I will remain steady and glad in this faith. One orchard of mine will be left behind, whose fruit will keep raining down upon the meadow. After fifty-eight years had shown their face, many a wonder passed over my head. Greed does not shrink with the passing years; it still hunts for its day by calendar and omen. What did that leading priest once say? That what has grown old never turns young again. As long as you speak, be a true speaker of words; be wise, and be a seeker of the world's meaning. Once you are gone, the matter rests with God, whether your place turns out to be good or bad. Watch what you plant, for the same you will reap; whatever words you speak, the same you will hear. The gentle-spoken hears harshness from no one; seek nothing in this world but goodness. Now return to the old sage's tale; see what the poet who sings it has to say.