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

on dark effacements of memory,
losing the self in the dance.
I remembered too much, unabled
for the sword and buckler,
for spellbook and moon,
for altar and incense,
for the birds' veiled grammar
and the seasons' alembic,
and always the river
was telling me telling me
COME, ASTRALAS, COME TO THE WATERS:
I AM THE LAST HOME, it was saying,
THE REFUGE OF DREAMS
AND THE SLEEP OF REASON.
COME TO MIDCURRENT, ASTRALAS.
I SHALL CARRY YOU PAST YOUR FAILURES.
COME TO MIDCURRENT AND OPEN YOUR ARMS
AS YOU FALL INTO SPINDRIFT,
TO MOVEMENT, TO LIGHT ON THE WATER,
TO WATER ITSELF, ENRAPTURED AND LOST
AS THE WHOLE WORLD VANISHES.

And always the river
spoke like this, always the dark current
lulling the heart and the mind
into that undertow
where the homelands shift
behind you and fade,
and you think they have vanished
in the necessity of rivers,
in the battlements of forest,
so that if you return
to recover your path
you are lost in the maze
of leaf and inevitable current,
of fore and aft,
of the homelands always receding.

So spoke the river,
and darkly I hearkened,
suspended in darkness,
in the heart's surrender.

A boat for the passage
I began to fashion,
hides stripped in the lime pits
sealed with tallow
and stitched by the tendon of flax
as the awl and the needle
passed through and over