kujiyoo

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These are the jewels that rejoice a singer's heart. But now sleep, and grow strong and well again. I will sing to you again." And as she sung, the emperor fell into a sweet sleep; and how mild and refreshing that slumber was! When he awoke, strengthened and restored, the sun shone brightly through the window; but not one of his servants had returned- they all believed he was dead; only the nightingale still sat beside him, and sang. "You must always remain with me," said the emperor.

"You shall sing only when it pleases you; and I will break the artificial bird into a thousand pieces." "No; do not do that," replied the nightingale; "the bird did very well as long as it could. Keep it here still. I cannot live in the palace, and build my nest; but let me come when I like. I will sit on a bough outside your window, in the evening, and sing to you, so that you may be happy, and have thoughts full of joy. I will sing to you of those who are happy, and those who suffer; of the good and the evil, who are hidden around you.

The little singing bird flies far from you and your court to the home of the fisherman and the peasant's cot. I love your heart better than your crown; and yet something holy lingers round that also. I will come, I will sing to you; but you must promise me one thing." "Everything," said the emperor, who, having dressed himself in his imperial robes, stood with the hand that held the heavy golden sword pressed to his heart. "I only ask one thing," she replied; "let no one know that you have a little bird who tells you everything.
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