Much I should have wished to stay and hear the hymn with which they
greet the night, that is answered by the wolves on the heights of Mloon,
but it was now time to raise the anchor again that the captain might
return from Bar-Wul-Yann upon the landward tide. So we went on board and
continued down the Yann. And the captain and I spoke little, for we were
thinking of our parting, which should be for long, and we watched
instead the splendour of the westering sun. For the sun was a ruddy
gold, but a faint mist cloaked the jungle, lying low, and into it poured
the smoke of the little jungle cities, and the smoke of them met
together in the mist and joined into one haze, which became purple, and
was lit by the sun, as the thoughts of men become hallowed by some great
and sacred thing. Some times one column from a lonely house would rise
up higher than the cities’ smoke, and gleam by itself in the sun.
And now as the sun’s last rays were nearly level, we saw the sight that
I had come to see, for from two mountains that stood on either shore two
cliffs of pink marble came out into the river, all glowing in the light
of the low sun, and they were quite smooth and of mountainous altitude,
and they nearly met, and Yann went tumbling between them and found the
sea.
And this was Bar-Wul-Yann, the Gate of Yann, and in the distance through
that barrier’s gap I saw the azure indescribable sea, where little
fishing-boats went gleaming by.
And the sun set, and the brief twilight came, and the exultation of the
glory of Bar-Wul-Yann was gone, yet still the pink cliffs glowed, the
fairest marvel that the eye beheld—and this in a land of wonders. And
soon the twilight gave place to the coming out of stars, and the colours
of Bar-Wul-Yann went dwindling away. And the sight of those cliffs was
to me as some chord of music that a master’s hand had launched from the
violin, and which carries to Heaven or Faëry the tremulous spirits of
men.
[Illustration: THE GATE OF YANN]
And now by the shore they anchored and went no further, for they were
sailors of the river and not of the sea, and knew the Yann but not the
tides beyond.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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