The Quest

A Bolivian Folktale

 THE QUEST

Whenever the wind blew softly, whenever it spoke of Spring,

The armadillo fretted because he could not sing.

He'd sit by the pool in the evening, when the frogs were in full voice

And the sound of their loud green croaking would make his heart rejoice.

'Tell me your secret, I beg you!' he'd say to the noisy frogs,

As they sang their haunting love-songs, from their gnarled and mossy logs.

'We cannot teach you our secret! What a very stupid thing!

You are an armadillo! Armadillos cannot sing!'

One day when he was musing some crickets sang a tune;

They chirped and trilled and fluttered in the heat of the afternoon.

Their song filled every corner and Armadillo sighed,

'Please teach me to sing as you do!' But they laughed until they cried.

'You're only an Armadillo! Stop making such a fuss!

We have our wonderful voices, but you cannot be like us!'

He crept by an open window, and he heard canaries sing;

Though caged, they sang as loudly as canaries on the wing.

' Please teach me your song! It's so lovely! I want to sing like you!'

So said the Armadillo, 'Please make my dreams come true!'

But he just amused the canaries who twittered 'Run along!

Remember that armadillos haven't got the gift of song!'

Broken-hearted, the Armadillo wandered off down the wild-wood track

And he came to a place in the forest where the Wizard had his shack.

He knocked, and the door was opened, and the Wizard recognised

That here was a soul in torment, who should not be despised.

'What is your wish, Armadillo?' the Wizard whispered low,

'I want to sing!' came the answer but the Wizard answered 'No!

Some creatures are made for singing and they do it very well,

But you have a gift, Armadillo, and that is your beautiful shell!'

'I don't care for my shell! It is nothing! I've hated my shell from the start!

All I want is a voice for expressing all the music I have in my heart!'

'I can make your shell sing' said the Wizard, 'But I'm fearful and I'll tell you why;

If I take your shell you'll be naked and without it I fear that you'll die.'

'I'd rather be dead than not singing!' Armadillo was down on his knees;

'Take my life! For my shell will be singing! Take it! I beg of you! Please!'

So the Wizard dispatched Armadillo! Ah yes, it's a sad tale to tell!

And the Wizard was left, as he'd promised, to work on the beautiful shell.

And a thing of great beauty was fashioned, a musical instrument too;

And no note was ever so perfect as the note that the Wizard blew!

And he called to his side a musician, the best in the world, people said,

Saying 'Play this for Armadillo, an artist who now is dead'.

And the frogs heard the music playing and the crickets heard song

And the little caged birds, the canaries, knew that they'd been wrong.

And the whole world heard the singing, the glorious musical notes

That seemed to come from the heavens, from a thousand angel throats!

For the songs of Armadillo were the best songs ever heard.

Armadillo himself was singing. Armadillo had the last word.