Narcissus looked in the river and saw his reflection. He was struck by how beautiful he was, indeed so struck that he could not stop looking and in time he just withered away.
But when Narcissus died the flowers, (for most evolved from the genus Narcissi) in the surrounding fields were desolate, and they sent a delegation to the river to request some drops of water to weep for Narcissus.
'Oh', answered the river, in a guarded way 'If all your drops of water were tears I shoud not have enough to weep for Narcissus myself.'
The you loved Narcissus too?' the flowers petalled out.
'Of course I did,' ran a teary river.
'Why did you love him so?' some of the flowers requested, wilting in their grief
"Because...' the river coursed out, '...when he leaned over my bank and beheld his beauty
in my waters, I could see my own water...my own river in his eyes and that is what I miss most. And now that he is gone I do not have the joy of seeing my own reflection in his eyes.'
The flowers rereated and gathered in a bunch to reflect onsuch matters as the universality of vanity and whether tears are no more than self-pity.
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