Once upon a time there was an oak and a reed across.
“No wonder you do as painful moans. Guys are weak.’s Light air is a storm for you, but look at me. I am powerful and strong. No storm has ever been able to bow my head.” Said Oak to the cane growing along the river.
“I advise you should grow near my side so that can protect you from the wind” suggests the old tree.
“I’d rather be here growing near you. Not worry. No need to fear. I bow but never break.” Came the intelligent response.
That night a terrible storm broke. The oak standing erect while the rod bent himself. The wind became the most devastating and uprooted oak, threw on the floor.
The next morning was only the thin reed.
He who laughs last, laughs best.