Lady & Trison
A Lady, who had been picking flowers from a field, placed the last of them into her basket, now laced with the vibrant hues of spring. Satisfied by her collection, she began to make her way home to her husband and children.
A large Trison bull, baffled by the sight asked the woman, “For whom do you gather these springtime flowers—isn’t it enough to just graze on them here and now?”
“I gather these flowers,” she replied, “for my husband because I love him and will give these flowers to him.” The Lady, looking over the bull’s herd inquired, “Do your many wives not do the same?”
“It is not the role of my wives to love, but to breed,” said the Trison, “so they feed themselves the flowers they graze and none come to me except that which I pick myself.”
“Then you are without a single lover in all your herd?” asked the Lady, feeling rather sorry.
“I suppose,” snorted the Trison with a frown.
“Then take a flower from me, and know what it feels like to love and love in turn,” said the Lady.
One genuine love is better than an insincere many.