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Far in the future, and yet so close, there lived an emperor. The emperor's city was the most magnificent in the world, made entirely of steel, glass and gold. It stretched so far that even he did not know where it ended. At the bottom of the city the light never reached all the way down and there you could hear a little brown singer with the most beautiful voice.

The poor in the city often came to listen to the disheveled singer with the beautiful voice. Everyone who passed by recorded her performance and the news spread around the world. Finally it ended up with the emperor. “Is there such a singer in my city? I must find her!” And then he called his servant who was given the task of bringing the nightingale to the emperor’s palace.

A poor girl from the palace knew where the nightingale sang and she led the servant down into the deepest layers of the endless city. In a place of garbage and dust stood the nightingale and sang so beautifully. The servant could not understand that something so disheveled and dirty could create something so beautiful.
“You must sing for our leader” he ordered and the Nightingale followed because it had never sung for an emperor before.

The palace was decorated as never before. Large sails hung like curtains behind the crowds that had gathered to pay homage to the emperor and his Nightingale. On a golden podium stood the little singer and sang so beautifully that tears rolled down the emperor's cheek. From that day on she was only allowed to perform in the emperor's palace and even though she had the finest dress and the biggest bed, she felt empty and lonely.

One day a package arrived for the emperor, with the description “Nightingale” on it.
He thought it must be yet another tribute to his famous singer, but when he removed the lid, a golden robot gleamed from the darkness of the box. A piece of art created by the most skilled scientists and engineers of the great empire, adorned with gold and precious stones, and equipped with the latest AI so it could perform exactly like a nightingale.

"The emperor said, 'They shall sing a duet,' but the robot sang in fixed rhythms while the real nightingale sang from the heart. The robot could be relied upon, but the real one fell out of sync, and in the end, the people only wanted to hear the robot. Then the nightingale saw her chance to disappear back into the darkness of the city, and the audience was so dazzled by the golden singer that they didn’t even notice."

The Nightingale was now banished from the court and the robot had its permanent place at the emperor's side. The golden robot played every day and every night to the great pleasure of the court, but one night it went wrong. A loud "click" sounded and the Machine slowly began to break down. First a few scratches, then a cogwheel and finally it couldn't even sing a single melody.

5 years passed and the emperor became mortally ill. Death crawled onto his bed and told him about all the good and bad things he had done with his time.
It was deafening, and the emperor was about to go insane. “Music, music!” the emperor screamed, but the robot was broken, and Death now stared with its hollow eye sockets, and everything was so terribly silent.

Then immediately, at the window, the most beautiful song sounded. It was the Nightingale who had heard that the emperor was ill and who had come to sing her song for him. With each note life and blood came back and the song filled the room with light.
It sang a song about the quiet cemetery where the white roses grow and even death was so moved that it disappeared out of the window like a light mist.

The sun shone in and the emperor was now completely well. “I will destroy that robot,” he said to the Nightingale, but the singer stopped him and said, “Don’t do it, it has done the best it could. I can’t always be here, but I will come back and sing for you as often as I can.” And then she disappeared out the window again and the servants opened the door to the emperor’s chamber. There he stood, healthy and well, saying, “Good morning.”