The Eternal Spring in the Glass Cup

At the dawn of Persian civilization, legend has it that the Creator planted the first rose on the Iranian plateau, forged from sunlight, spring water, and fragments of stars. Unlike ordinary flowers, its petals shifted color with the moon’s phases, and at its core lay a drop of "dew of life" that never dried—capable of making any land it touched bloom perpetually with flowers.

Guarding this rose was a young man named Farhad, the world’s most skilled craftsman in carving glass. Over thirty years, he crafted a hollowed-out glass cup with intricate carvings, designed specifically to collect the rose’s morning dew. Each dawn, he knelt before the flower holding the glass cup, letting the dew slide from the petals into the cup. The carvings on the cup’s wall refracted sunlight into rainbows, gilding the rose with a layer of golden radiance. When a seven-year drought struck the Persian kingdom—drying up rivers and withering plants—only this rose thrived under Farhad’s protection. Princess Shirin, the king’s daughter, heard of this and traveled miles to the rose, begging Farhad to use the dew of life to save her people. Gazing at the cracked land and the cries of the suffering, Farhad resolutely shared his years of collected dew: wherever a drop fell, verdant plants immediately sprouted, and dry riverbeds gushed with clear springs.

Yet the rose, deprived of its dew, began to wilt. Farhad held the fading and wept, and his tears, falling on the petals, miraculously revived the rose. It turned out the Creator had long decreed: *"The most precious thing is not the eternal dew of life, but the kind heart willing to share."* To honor this sacrifice, Princess Shirin taught the people to grow roses alongside Farhad and spread the craftsmanship of making glass cups across the plateau.

Legend says Farhad infused his soul into the glass cup before his death. Today, an ancient glass rose cup is still preserved in an Iranian museum—whenever moonlight filters through its walls, it casts shadows of blooming roses on the wall, as if telling the story of sacrifice and rebirth.

And the roses on the Iranian plateau have carried a sweet fragrance ever since. People say it is the kindness of Farhad and the tenderness of Shirin, brewed into an eternal spring through time.