The Turtle and the Swans

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By the edge of a quiet pond, a turtle and two swans lived as companions. Their days passed in ease, until the skies withheld their rain. Slowly, the pond shrank into cracked earth and brittle reeds. The swans fretted, but the turtle, thoughtful and steady, said, “Let us not despair. Bring me a sturdy stick. Hold its ends in your beaks, and I shall cling to the middle with my mouth. Together, we can reach a lake that never runs dry.”

The swans agreed, but warned him gently, “You must keep silent in the air. Not a word, not a sound.” The turtle nodded, and soon they lifted him skyward. Never had he seen such marvels—fields unfurling like green silk, rivers flashing like silver serpents, villages gleaming like scattered jewels. His heart brimmed with wonder.

Below, people gathered in astonishment, pointing, laughing, calling to one another. The turtle’s pride surged; he burned to tell them the truth—that it was his clever plan. But as he opened his mouth, the stick slipped away.

Down he plunged, while the swans wheeled above in grief. For pride and unguarded words can undo even the wisest of creatures.

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Moral: Wisdom often lies in knowing when to stay silent.

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