"Dragonlance Tales II vol 1 - The Reign of Istar" - читать интересную книгу автора (DragonLance)

O when the god called me,
the twin moons crossed
on the prow of my ship,
and the ocean was red on silver,
encircling light
upon inarticulate light
from the settled darkness
rushing, awaiting my song.

And O when the god called me,
this was my singing,
my prophecy compelled
in a visitation of wind.

II

The language of wind
is one tongue only,
pronounced in the movement
of cloud and water,
voiced in the rattle of leaves
in the breath between waiting
and memory, it stalks
elusive as light and promise.

The language of wind
is the vanishing year
preserved in recollection,
and always it yearns
for a season the heart
might have been in its wild anointing.
And the wind is always your heartbeat,
is breathing remote
as the impassive stars,
and it moves from arrival to leaving,
leaving you one song only:
OH, THAT WAS THE LANGUAGE OF WIND,
you say, and WHAT DOES IT MEAN
TO THE LEAVES AND THE WATER,
always, WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

So it found me the first time
at the banks of Thon-Thalas,
at the last edge of river,
after the ministries
of inkwell and tutor,
after the damaged heirloom of days,
when the long thoughts burrow
and the childhood dances