Let other rivers carry toward the sea oak branches and the red infusion of rusty earth, roses and the bark of sycamores, strewn straw or slabs of ice; let the Seine in the damp mornings of December, when half-past eight sounds from the steeples of the city, unmoor under the rigid derricks barges of manure and lighters full of casks; let the River Haha, at the smoking crest of its rapids, erect all at once, like the rude semblance of a pike, the trunk of a hundred-foot pine tree; and let the Equatorial rivers carry in their turbid flow a confused world of trees and plants; yet, flat on my face, held fast against the current, the width of this one river is not equal to my arms, nor its depth sufficient to engulf me. The promises of the Occident are not lies! Learn this: this gold does not vainly appeal to our blindness, it is not devoid of delights. I have found that it is insufficient to see, inexpedient to remain standing; upon analysis my enjoyment is in that of which I can take possession; for, descending the steep bank with the feet of astonishment, I have discovered the source. The riches of the West are not forbidden me. Over the curve of the earth, straight toward me, they are rolling. Not the silk molded by a hand or a bare foot, not the deep wool of the carpet used for the consecration of a king, can be compared to the resistance of this liquid depth where my own weight supports me. Neither the name of milk nor the color of the rose can be compared to this marvel whose descent I receive upon me. Truly I drink, truly I am plunged in wine! Let the ports open to receive the cargoes of wood and grain that come to them from the high countries; let the fishers tend their lines to catch wreckage and fish; let the searchers for gold filter the water and sift the sand; the river does not carry less riches to me. Do not say that I see, because the eye does not suffice for this, which demands a more subtle sense. To enjoy is to understand, and to understand is to evaluate. At the hour when the holy light evokes to complete response the shadow that she dissipates, the surface of these waters opens a flowerless garden to my motionless navigation. Between these deep violet ripples the water is painted like the reflection of tapers, like amber, like palest green, like the color of gold. But silence! What I have discovered is mine, and now, as the water darkens, I will possess the night alone with all its visible and invisible stars. DOORS