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    Прочтений: 0 Посещений: 5501 Дата публикации: 3.7.2006 A myth written in a rather archaic language to reach similarity with the literature of the past. years. The story as ancient as the world About love and discord About the god who subdued the wind Molested the child and made the fiend The story of thousands years old That never before has been told But now the time is stepping in Hear this truth and keep it within… Why is the Moon shining so bright in the sky above your head? What is it to her? Is she happy? Is she laughing? Oh yes, she’s laughing, laughing at the Sun that will come into the sky in several hours – salubrious and mighty as the only god must be. This is the fact, the only god… Or is it so? A long while ago, too long for you to recall, both of them, the Sun and the Moon, were ruling the world as two dear friends – truly, peacefully and magnetically. Both of them were navigating the skies, coming out in turns to adorn the Earth and the people who dwelled down on it with their eternal beauty. The world strived. Everything was wonderful till the hour came in which the Sun’s mind darkened. Was it a predestined madness or madness due to envy – no one knows anymore, yet the fact remains clear: the friendship had cracked, and the Sun blamed people for such an occurrence. The Sun grew indignant as he watched them disdain the laws of serenity, aspire for the Moon’s silver rays, warble serenades and recite verses rhapsodically while the Night, the Moon’s pale-faced daughter, was walking on the edge of the globe. The Sun took such a behavior for a blasphemous treason and called for the Moon to come before his very eyes to keep an answer. The Moon had come. The Sun started at her vehemently: ‘This is unfair’, he stated, ‘what thou art doing with my people? I’ve given them everything: laughter, happiness and warmth. I’ve given them vision to see my beauty, senses to feel my salubrity and desire to use my shining wealth…’ ‘Why do you call people “yours”?’ the Moon asked listening to this with a great care. ‘Because I am so infinitely rich in hues and colours. I myself am infinity, the only owner of life’ ‘I am also rich’, the Moon exclaimed mildly. ‘Thou art monotonous. What can thee offer them?’ The Moon’s face turned marble-white. ‘I can offer them love’, she whispered. The Sun began laughing. ‘Love? Love you say? You are imperfect; that’s why you are trying to bribe people. What is love in the silvery rays accompanied by the crickets’ mordent or the sound of kisses if not lust? A sinful desire to copulate for one minute of ecstasy! No, sister, thou art vicious. By doing so thou claimst my power for I, and only I, can bless people for the continuation of the human race. Thou art the delusion’ The goddess then said: ‘What kind of thoughts have overcome thee, my golden neighbour? What kind of sin thou art attaching to me? We, in whose power was infinitude, have been living as dearest brother and sister side by side setting an example to those below us; we have been the perfect candidates to be worshipped… How could thou hast besmirched thyself with such an inferior belief? Shame on thee, king, for I swear – I am innocent’ Such words had disturbed the Sun. But no sooner had he recalled his wounded pride, he answered to this sharply: ‘Thy argent light deprives people of their natural dreams; their minds riot; they now desire for lewdness and troubles. I am the only love; there’s no other’. The Moon’s eyes cast naughty sparkles; she tried to stay calm yet she was storming inside; her hands shaking. ‘Thou want the power, god? Predominance and everlasting domain? I will give them to thee. An auspicious love… Henceforth thou art the master of the reign, loyal and good king for the human beings. But forget not what I have told thee about my innocence. I will step aside, bleeding with offence, till the day come that I can revenge my broken heart. Forget not what I have told thee”. This is what the Moon had said before secluding to an unassailable island. The goddess’s daughter, the pretty Night, followed her and the devout winds – her retinue, too. The waves were hustling; the seagulls were screaming in despair…The Moon’s loneliness had begun. After the Moon had left, a triumph fell on the earth as the Sun, the golden ruler, had filled it with gold. He cherished the seas and made the waters hot and splendid, bloomed the forests and smiled to everything alive under the clear blue horizons. Life was everywhere. Love and joy; the perfect world of afflatus! It was expected that everyone should laugh and enjoy the proposed beauty. But… But not long such elation lasted. The Sun had soon realized that although the songs were being sung and the great poetry was being written, the debauched nations had been clandestinely yearning for the Moon’s cold silver light. Such a perfidy! The Sun went berserk. The Sun, so insouciant and effusive, had used his omnipotent power against people for the first time since the creation of the world! The cruelest retribution met those who had dared to abide to the god’s rival. With his incinerating hands the king stroke the earth furiously, after which the gardens were left burned, the sands incandescent and the brooks dried out. The scared people pleaded: ‘Forgive us, the only god, the great eternal Sun. There is no other. Adorn us with your favour’. ‘I will, for the sake of eternity’, the Sun answered. Thus the people had abjured from the deserted goddess and ignored her; and the memory of the Moon was effaced impetuously from their hot hearts for a long while… Yet in the faraway country, flourishing and beneficial, to the family of a noble-hearted king and his beautiful charming wife, a son, the heir to the throne, was born. How sweet and delicate, how serious and handsome this boy was! The dearest treasure, an apple to his parents’ eyes! The time went by quickly. The boy got older, and as he was getting older, a strange pensiveness occurred in him. He now preferred to stay alone although earlier he had preferred to share the jolly childhood in the company of his friends; he longed for seclusion; he was reticent and silent. What kind of syndrome might that be? The king and the queen suspected the danger and had soon revealed their son’s dark secret – long faithful poems glorifying the Moon and her daughter, the Night. It was a sedition! The alarmed royal family had had to hide the prince’s furtive passion. They had burned the papers and forbidden him to write anymore. But there was no way to escape the Sun’s omnivorous serves that soon had delivered the news of this betrayal into the god’s tenement. A squall had threatened the firmament. ‘Helpless wretch!’ the Sun’s voice sounded, ’Thou art too garrulous to spurn my gifts and take the oath to my enemy! Do repine now or I shall condemn thee to eternal coldness. Thou wilt lose all my warmth and never again will be healed by my perfect rays. Do repine or the ire on mine wilt scourge thee; and scourged wilt thee be till the end of eternity!’ It was a horrible condemnation, but the boy refused to repine – and was punished. Thrice had the imperious god cursed the vilipended boy; thrice had its wrath smashed the noble beauty and turned the longhaired Demon into a heinous cripple unable to move or speak. His young body was fettered into the chains of a sear coldness; movement had passed away living the prince inanimate. Only the eyes remained alive. The prince must have been struggling a lot when he saw that his parents had been turned into un-presence: the resented Sun had turned them into a mirage… Amidst luxury and magnificence the pain was lingering. Everybody had left the country, save for the only creature – the white cat called Panther who was bringing some fruits in its mouth and fed with them the prince. A sad, sad story! Soon, however, the news of this infelicitous fate was delivered to the Moon by the fast nimble winds. ‘Get up, goddess. How can thee be so inactive?’ the messengers’ hubbub disturbed the Moon. ‘The one who was not afraid to worship thee, had been castigated so odiously! Be fast, oh Moon, thou must avenge thy pride at last. Reclaim thy justice. Get thy power back for it belongs to thee. Prove thou art not inferior!’ The Moon had risen. A portentous fire hinted in her face. Vigorous and tense had she turned. For the first time the Night had quivered not having recognized her mother! ‘The Sun wanted power; I gave it to him. It coveted the earth; it received it. It longed for peace; but now it banishes and hurts!’ the Moon screamed.’ We are enemies from this moment, Sun. From now on my power equals thine! Thee have foreseen the evil; I shall be one. I am the burgeon of anything against thee!’ The Earth shuddered as the Moon’s words had pierced the air: ‘Demon, I am talking to thee. Leave thy afflicted chair and revenge for thy goddess. Thou art my sword. Eradicate my vie; spread out my soul; supply my army; drink from me!’ And the horrible whirlwind came and penetrated the prince’s mutilated body, unyoked the malediction and freed Demon, placing a black coat and a whip beside him. The prince had aroused even more handsome than before. He took the hallow and said in a soft voice to the white cat: ‘Be mine; be dark and devoted; be dark and immanent! My companion, thou wilt avenge with me’ Then he slashed the cat with a dart of the whip and besmirched its white fur with the bilious noisome blood. Panther exhaled a sinister roar; its teeth got longer, tail became black and billowy, and the sullen sides dashed constantly. The birds, snowy doves, frightened by this transformation, had flown into heavens, but the prince leaned down and, having his alms full of sand, hurled it after them. Blackness poured on… there were no doves anymore but nauseous ravens that surrounded Demon with their sordid shrieks and followed him as he strode Panther – the dark equestrian. Through the shining gardens, above the ponderous mountains the prince and his serves were galloping; and everything was scattering in different directions at the sight of them. Whenever Panther’s heavy claws touched the ground – the deep holes appeared; whenever she drunk in thirst from the sugary waters – decoy and poison overcame them. Hundreds of fair maidens had been rounded up together by the biting whip, condemned to become the part of these venomous billows; they were now laying in wait for the first stray to draw it with a guffaw into the mire. “Mermaids” were they called. As the prince continued his voracious journey, the adroit butterflies, dumbfounded with fear, had crossed his way. At seeing them, Demon had cleaved the ruthless wattle through their tender wings, torn and smeared them in black and named the monsters that had engendered “bats”. These bats fulfilled his revenue too. A stampede had begun. Animals, birds, insects and people – all of them stricken with horror and frenzy were running without thinking; the air was filled with depression; all were losing their minds, blinded by the impenetrable shroud – the drops of perspiration that had fallen from Demon’s forehead. And saw The One Chosen to Revenge a youth burning without a fresh drink. Had stopped the prince his riding and approached the chap. The next moment had he given him the dark bliss, quenching the thirst of the man with his ebullient blood as gloom as the Night’s gown, and catechizing him to go on as an adherent of the goddess and hunt on his neighbourgs – for the only salvation for the lacerations of his thirst lays in a living human blood. And the youth had obeyed and followed his master’s teaching, and had plunged into the darkness made by the edacious carrion eaters, ravens, bats, vultures and other scum that had tarnished the Sun’s light. And the Sun had grown weaker: too numerous and dangerous Demon’s army had become – almost invulnerable and invincible. And had mourned the golden god losing its power; cried in alert. The radiant Day, the good son, appeared immediately and appealed to the Sun: ‘Get up, the great one; strike with your might. We are not alone. The precious Night, my secret lover, had sworn to be mine, and in proof of her love, is sending us help – the three singer who will glorify and worship thee in spite of all the dark tyranny. The singers will sing a hymn to thee, celebrating thy victory and avowing thee the only king again. Get up and fight, oh my father!’ And the Sun had dashed to see its enemies. And the two heavenly deities had met in the battle; they fielded each other and eclipsed each other’s lights. The muted Earth was contemplating this marvel for the first time in history. Long the battle lasted - till the moment at which the Moon had her vigilance relaxed, confused with the lull. And using this disarray, the Sun had lifted his hot sword and chopped the Moon’s head off. Thrice had the reliable singers sung the victorious hymns, while the amiable Day was rekindling its bright colours quickly. Thrice Demon dreaded! As fast as never, quivered with hatred and detestation, he had gripped his goddess’s head, wrapped it into his winged attires and vanished in bogs together with the spawn, howling about the loss and misery that had overcome them. And the Earth was healed and the happiness returned. The Sun and the Moon’s daughter started to take the throne in turns; they ruled blithely. The Day’s and the Moon’s children – the rosy-cheeked Dawn and Sunset (named thus in the Sun’s homage) - have been fascinating the recovered human beings with their sincere beauty and love ever since. The world had gained its own old self again. But the dark army had not been annihilated; it had only been banished – no more than that. Demon lives on and pays visits to the Earth occasionally, while the Night, who is not willing to betray her mother’s memory again, takes the scepter. Demon is mischievous. He hangs his mistress’s head onto the skies; slowly unwraps it from his coat – and waits for the Night’s reaction. He’s knows about conscience well enough to understand what feelings are scolding inside the loyal child. And as the Moon revives, inhaling her daughter’s scent, Demon’s strengths regresses and he summons his army again, and the massacre renews; for a limited period though as the read-headed singers prevent the crucial by singing their common “cock-a-doodle-doo” with the celestial voices. This singing exiles Demon. He, together with his army, returns to the swamps to whine over the absolute power lost and the Moon’s pale face to see the Earth again. And thus will it be till the end of the history, till chastity sides vice and righteousness fights evil. This is our world - imperfect but fascinating. Sinful and humane. Ad finitum. 1st December 1998 Ваше мнение:
Украинская Баннерная Сеть |
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ТОПОЛЕК - Demon
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