In a quiet village nestled near a thicket, a hunter crouched in stillness, his eyes fixed on a trap he had set with careful precision. After hours of waiting, his patience was rewarded—the trap snapped shut. Eagerly, he opened it, only to find a small, strange-looking bird fluttering inside. As he reached in to pull it out, the bird did something astonishing—it spoke.
“Oh noble hunter,” it said, “you have hunted many beasts—sheep, deer, even camels—but never have you found lasting satisfaction. I am only a small bird. Surely I will not satisfy your hunger either. But if you spare me, I will offer you three pieces of wisdom—gems far more nourishing than my flesh. The first I’ll give now, while I am still in your hand. The second I will share from the rooftop, and the third from that tall tree yonder.”
Curiosity outweighed hunger, and the hunter nodded.
The bird spoke: “Here is my first counsel—Never believe in absurdities, no matter who says them—be it king or beggar, sage or fool.” The hunter, intrigued, loosened his grip, and the bird flew to the rooftop.
From there, it gave the second counsel: “Do not grieve over what is lost. Let go of regret. The past cannot be changed; only the present is in your hands.”
Then, after a dramatic pause, the bird added: “Ah, but had you kept me, you would’ve found a priceless pearl hidden inside me—a treasure worth more than ten gold coins. A rare jewel that could have changed your life forever.”
The hunter’s heart dropped. He clutched his head, wailed, and cursed his fate. “What a fool I was! What have I done?”
The bird laughed. “Did I not just tell you not to mourn the past? And didn't I advise you not to believe in absurdities? Do you truly believe a tiny bird like me could carry a pearl that size inside its body? How quickly you forgot both counsels!”
Ashamed, the hunter looked up and pleaded, “At least give me the third piece of wisdom. Surely I deserve that much.”
From the tall tree, the bird replied, “What use is another truth to a man who does not live the first two? To offer wisdom to one who does not listen is to pour water into a broken jar. Why should I waste the third counsel on one who discards the first two?”
And with that, the bird flew away, never to return.
To offer counsel to an eager ignoramus, asleep and unaware,
Is but to sow seeds in barren soil.
—Rumi
