Gradually the boy lost himself in sweet fancies, and suddenly he
found himself again, in the charmed land of sleep. He wandered in far
countries, rich and strange; he traversed wild waters with incredible
swiftness; marvellous creatures appeared and vanished; he lived with
all sorts of men, in battles, in whirling crowds, in lonely huts. He was
cast into prison. He fell into dire distress and want. All experiences
seemed to be sharpened to an edge. He felt them keenly, yet they did
not harm him. He died and came alive again; he loved to the height of
passion, and then was parted forever from his beloved. At last, toward
morning, as the dawn was stealing near, his soul grew calm, and the
pictures showed more clear and firm.
It seemed as if he were walking alone through the deep woods. Seldom the
daylight shimmered through the green veil. Soon he came to a rocky gorge
in the mountains. Under the mossy stones in the bed of the stream, he
heard the water secretly tinkling downward, ever downward, as he climbed
upward.
The forest grew thinner and lighter. He came to a fair meadow on the
slope of the mountain. Beyond the meadow was a high cliff, and in the
face of the cliff an opening like the entrance to a path. Dark was the
way, but smooth, and he followed easily on till he came near to a vast
cavern from which a flood of radiance streamed to meet him.
As he entered he beheld a mighty beam of light which sprang from the
ground, shattering itself against the roof in countless sparks, falling
and flowing all together into a great pool in the rock. Brighter was the
light-beam than molten gold, but silent in its rise, and silent in its
fall. The sacred stillness of a shrine, a never-broken hush of joy and
wonder, filled the cavern. Cool was the dripping radiance that softly
trickled down the walls, and the light that rippled from them was pale
blue.
But the pool, as the boy drew near and watched it, quivered and glanced
with the ever-changing colours of a liquid opal. He dipped his hands in
it and wet his lips. It seemed as if a lively breeze passed through his
heart.
He felt an irresistible desire to bathe in the pool. Slipping off his
clothes he plunged in. It was as if he bathed in a cloud of sunset. A
celestial rapture flowed through him. The waves of the stream were like
a bevy of nymphs taking shape around him, clinging to him with tender
breasts, as he floated onward, lost in delight, yet keenly sensitive to
every impression. Swiftly the current bore him out of the pool, into a
hollow in the cliff. Here a dimness of slumber shadowed his eyes, while
he felt the pressure of the loveliest dreams.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account