Original version in Bulgarian is available as well
The lake stretched out like a mirror of infinity.
Across its surface, water lilies danced — carrying memories of worlds no one remembered anymore. Yellow, pink, red — their colors glowed softly in the evening light, as if sunset itself had chosen them to hold its final breath. Time seemed to dissolve into the water.
One day, a wanderer came to the lake.
He was a man without a name, without a past — only with hazy memories that blurred like the reflections on the surface. He leaned over and looked into the water, but instead of his face, he saw something else. He saw himself — not as a man, but as one of the lilies: delicate, floating, eternal.
“What am I?” he whispered.
The wind answered with the song of the water.
Each lily was a thought, each color a memory, each shadow — forgotten time.
The wanderer felt something stir within him. His soul vibrated with a deep, pure tone, like a tuning fork setting reality in motion. It was neither sad nor joyful — simply the essence of existence. And in that moment, he understood: life was not a story that begins and ends, but a melody that resonates through eternity.
If every soul had its own tone, then the world was a symphony. Some tones intertwined in harmony, others trembled in dissonance — yet all were part of one vast, boundless music. The wanderer realized that his tone was never lost. It flowed into the lake, into the wind, into the reflections.
And then he knew — he had never truly been a man.
He had never been separate.
He had always been a note in the song of time.