By my order they have closed the door with bolt and bar. The porter
sleeps in his corner, his head sunk on his breast; all the servants
sleep. Only a pane of glass separates me from the garden; and the
silence is so complete that, all the way to the walls of the enclosure,
the mice between two floors, the lice in the breasts of the pigeons,
the bubble of a dandelion on its fragile stem, must feel the noise in
their midst as I open the door. The celestial spaces appear to me,
with the sun just where I had imagined it, in the afternoon splendor.
On high, a kite descends in wide circles through the blue; from the
summit of a pine a cone falls. I am glad to be where I am. My walks
in this enclosed place are distinguished by precaution and a taciturn
and quiet vigilance,--as a fisher fears to startle fish in the water
if he so much as thinks. There is no trace here of that free and open
country which distracts the mind and leads on the body. The trees and
the flowers conspire to my captivity; and, as in a child’s game the
player must continually go back and begin again, so all the turns in
this thick grass lead me to that furthest corner, where the wells are.
Across the little hill, by means of a long cord, I shake the invisible
pail. Like a ripening fruit, like a poet maturing his thought, I rest
in the immobility all about me where life is measured only by the
circling of the sun, by the beating of my pulse,--by the growth of my
hair. Vainly the turtle-dove makes her pure and sad appeal, heard from
afar. I will not stir from the house today. In vain the murmur of the
great river reaches me.
At midnight, returning from a ball where, during many hours, I
have watched human beings,--some in black, others in quainter
draperies,--turning in couples (each figure expressing incomprehensible
satisfaction) to the gymnastic modulations of a piano; at the moment
when the porters who have reached the top of the stairway lift the
curtain of my litter, I see in the light of my lantern, under the
torrential rain, a magnolia tree adorned with great ivory globes. Oh,
fresh apparition! Oh, confirmation of imperishable treasure in the
night!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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