While everything else was being made so happy, the poor fishes were
having a sad time. They could not leave the water to go to the Hill of
Taara, but they stretched their heads out of the brooks and rivers to
their very eyes, yet kept their ears under. So they saw Vanemuine, the
song-god, move his lips, but heard nothing, and they did as he did and
made no sound. To this day the poor, dumb fishes move their lips, but
speak no language.
Only the men and women who stood close around the Hill of Taara
understood everything that was sung. That is why human voices more than
any others can thrill us and make us see the beautiful and true.
Vanemuine sang of the glory of heaven and of the beauty of earth. He
sang of the flowing waters and of the rustling leaves. He sang of the
joys and the sorrows that come to all people, to children and parents,
to the rich and to the poor. If we listen to the songs sung to-day, with
open ears and expectant hearts, we may hear all that Vanemuine sang so
long ago upon the Hill of Taara.
When Vanemuine's songs had been heard by all the world, he rose on the
wings of the winds and went far into cloudland to his golden palace in
the sky.
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