Luyện nghe bài hát Song Of The Ancient

The song I perceive as I wander the woods through the
dim of dawn, lilts as it?s carried on soft shifting winds
through the of this early morn.

"Upon the hill, east of the woods, the old man stood in
gazing, contemplative and lost in himself. His old hands,
fingers and thin, but rugged, grasped the wooden staff. It
was familiar in his hand; yet strong. How many times?
How often had he this stood on this very place, lost within
rapt in reflection? A light breeze swelled about him
ruffling his hair and of beard, grey with age and wisdom of
years. He had much, experienced much and known friends
in the Hidden Lands. But that was before; the Fall.
Glancing downward, a sea of activity, the forest teeming life
and lives. But lives are a doorway wherethrough can be
expressed the nature of the Ancient; the one who within
the Hidden Lands. The old man 'I am become not what
was but through intent am become.' And so, in servitude
to human heart, he made forfeit that was his; the intangible
for the tangible, the for the mortal."

By now I am by the surreality of the tale, viewing
myself in the old man, and at it dawns and I realise the very
nature of mankind, and of myself, and I lay to cry.

"In his youth, the Old man the Garensword, but not now.
And yet, the legend holds that one day, Man shall the
two-edged blade once more to the conquest of and
strongholds and beyond this realm."

I raise my eyes as the comes to an end and a stranger
approaches as though a friend. Extending her hand I accept
it and rise. Standing, she into my eyes. "De-nyl, we have a
long way to go. There is so much, too much, that I to show you."

"If the truth is what you seek, it is only with the whose
face is never seen. He remains within the Lands and may
only be reached with the Garensword in hand. Let us depart from place."

I was relieved to that I would not be alone in my quest. For
that day, Destiny became my guide. I released my falcon, the
soaring high and free above the forest canopy. And yet
remained within my heart the lingering memory of that tragic
the wretched nature of mankind and of myself. Am I who I I am?
Am I even