VII
The music wasn’t a cacophony:
It even had its melody;
But it sang of the epiphany,
Summoned the god of malady.
The villagers heard the horn playing
And gathered, amazed, at the hill-toe;
They looked at the young man staying
At its top, as if he was willed to.
He played and played, still hotter,
With more fervour every second,
Making the music begotten
Into the Nether be taken.
And the listeners stood dazedly,
As if through distorting mirror
Recognising the boy immediately,
With every moment still clearer.
VIII
And then the music suddenly stopped.
The man got his horn off the lips,
Then cried out a word, very abrupt,
And everyone saw a red glimpse.
The ground was shaking beneath their feet,
The spark grew larger and brighter;
For nothing the villagers tried to flee –
In terror too strong to fight it.
But two pairs of eyes were not terrified
By the picture of gods denied:
The parents were gazing at their child
Not believing that he was alive.
They staggered along to embrace him again,
Blindly led to him by their love;
They could not see that all was in vain –
The feelings he was devoid of.
They crept to his feet and kissed them in glee,
Happy they’ve found their son;
But he didn’t notice, for they were too wee
Compared to things to be done.
He uplifted his hands and praised to the skies
In a language not of this world;
The roar of thunder was drowned by his cry…
And then – the Universe swirled.
IX
The bright red sun. Silence all around.
The timid light slowly flooding the ground.
The birds warming up. Shy and quiet chirrup.
Last clouds in the sky. About to clear up.
The bright crimson sun. Silence all around.
The first light illuminates the empty ground.
The birds warming up. The crows in the sky.
And nothing more. The land is now exile.
Only two shadows on top of the hill.
They are two bodies lying still.
Not touched by the fire that cleansed all the land.
Peaceful – though taken by the god’s hand.
And a vague silhouette heading to the horizon.
Leaving a trail of shades that are behind him rising.
The sun is growing. The birds are singing.
Silence is what the brand new day’s bringing.