Why are we attached to sad stories?
We are emotionally bond to them more than to happy ones...
Such a split between bitter and sweet.
Three sad stories from my childhood.
1. Laleczka z saskiej porcelany
(The doll from saxon porcelain)
The story about the ballerina doll who was standing alone
on a dressing-table.
Then suddenly a porcelain prince charming appeared on a chest of drawers.
But.....
But how fragile happiness is sometimes
In the fragile world of porcelain
Malignant wind slammed the window
And the prince crashed "the Amen"
And again, standing next to the mirror
On the dressing table all alone
And only a small drop
Flowed down the porcelain
2. Był sobie król
(Once there was a king)
Here is a story of a sweet cane king, marzipan princess
and a gingerbread page
who lived happily around roses.
But...
But fate was cruel, and their demise
A most uncanny slaughter
A dog ate the king, a cat ate the page
A mouse ate the princess-daughter
3. Andersen's The Steadfast Tin Soldier fairy tale
A story about a tin soldier and a paper ballerina
who fell in love, but...
Then the door blew open. A puff of wind struck the dancer.
She flew like a sylph, straight into the fire with the soldier,
blazed up in a flash, and was gone.
The tin soldier melted, all in a lump.
The next day, when a servant took up the ashes
she found him in the shape of a little tin heart.
But of the pretty dancer nothing was left except her spangle,
and it was burned as black as a coal.
To not finish it in a such melancholic mood
(in which in fact I immersed myself writing this post)
I will add Disney's version of the last story.
Of course Disney would not be Disney
if not add a happy end.
Extract from Fantasia 2000^^
With Dmitri Shostakovich's music ^^
