"Lowell, Amy - Many Swans Sun Myth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowell Amy)

Etext of Many Swans: Sun Myth of the North American Indians
by Amy Lowell
1920

[NOTE. -- "Many Swans" is based upon a Kathlamet legend, the
main theme and many of the episodes of which I have retained,
while at the same time augmenting and freely departing from it in
order to gain a wider symbolism. Four of the songs in my poem are
real Indian songs, one is an adaptation, the others are merely in the
Indian idiom. In the interest of atmospheric truth, I have felt at
liberty to make occasional use of Indian expressions and turns of
thought, and I here wish to record my gratitude to that small body
of indefatigable workers in that field of Indian folk-lore and
tradition whose careful and exact translations of Indian texts have
made them accessible to those who, like myself, have not the
Indian tongues. -- A. L.]

When the Goose Moon rose and walked upon a pale sky, and water
made a noise once more beneath the ice on the river, his heart was
sick with longing for the great good of the sun. One Winter again
had passed, one Winter like the last. A long sea with waves biting
each other under grey clouds, a shroud of snow from ocean to
forest, snow mumbling stories of bones and driftwood beyond his
red fire. He desired space, light; he cried to himself about himself,
he made songs of sorrow and wept in the corner of his house. He
gave his children toys to keep them away from him. His eyes were
dim following the thin sun. He said to his wife: "I want that sun.
Some day I shall go to see it." And she said: "Peace, be still. You
will wake the children."

So he waited, and the Whirlwind Moon came, a crescent --
mounted, and marched down beyond the morning, and was gone.
Then the Extreme Cold Moon came and shone, it mounted, moved
night by night into morning and faded through day to darkness. He
watched the Old Moon pass, he saw the Eagle Moon come and go.
Slowly the moons wound across the snow, and many nights he
could not see them, he could only hear the waves raving foam and
fury until dawn.

Now the Goose Moon told him things, but his blood lay sluggish
within him until the moon stood full and apart in the sky. His wife
asked why he was silent. "I have wept my eyes dry," he answered.
"Give me my cedar bow and my two-winged arrows with the
copper points. I will go into the forest and kill a moose, and bring
fresh meat for the children."

All day he stalked the forest. He saw the marks of bears' claws on
the trees. He saw the wide tracks of a lynx, and the little
slot-slot-of a jumping rabbit, but nothing came along. Then he
made a melancholy song for himself: "My name is Many Swans,