" In the beginning, we were all birds, with wings and we flew high above the earth, over the waters and above the mountains to collect our daily food. When the seasons changed, we migrated following the warmth and the good grains, until one day we reached a region so lush and full of good grains that we stayed and ate until we became too heavy to fly away. So we slept the night in that place and when we awoke in the morning, we heeded the rumbling of our stomachs and ate more, in this way we were rooted to the ground, remaining in the field day after day, until we could only hop and as the seasons changed the green leaves to golden bowers and when the cold winter winds finally blew, we were forced to stay on the earth because we could no longer fly. Eventually, the fluff of our wings crusted and thickened becoming transformed into arms and hands and, as we were no longer able to fly, we dug holes on the shores of rivers and in the mountain sides for shelter. This is why the Romany can never see a mountain without desiring to get to the top but now we must crawl up, instead of flying. [But we are not to] be disheartened, because someday [Gypsies] will get their wings back."
Gypsies Their Life, Lore and Legends by: Konrad Bercovici
Greenwich House, New York, 1983. (p23-25)
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