Волхв

Chapter 18

           Ihadaprivate’house’underalimetree.OnedayJune,anobleblueday,burning,clear,astheyarehereinGreeceIwasreadingalifeofChopin.Irememberthatexactly.Youknowatmyageyourecallthefirsttwentyyearsfarbetterthanthesecondorthethird.IwasreadingandnodoubtseeingmyselfasChopin,andIhadmynewbookonbirdsbesideme.Itis1910."SuddenlyIhearanoiseontheothersideofthebrickwallwhichseparatesthegardenofthenexthousefromours.Thishouseisempty,soIamsurprised.Andthen…aheadappears.Cautiously.Likeamouse.Itistheheadofayounggirl.Iamhalfhiddeninmybower,Iamthelastthingshesees,soIhavetimetoexamineher.Herheadisinsunshine,amassofpaleblondehairthatfallsbehindherandoutofsight.Thesunistothesouth,sothatitiscaughtinherhair,inacloudoflight.Iseehershadowedface,herdarkeyesandhersmallhalf-openedinquisitivemouth.Sheisgrave,timid,yetdeterminedtobedaring.Sheseesme.Shestaresatmeforamomentinhershockedhazeoflight.Sheseemsmoreerect,likeabird.Istandupintheentranceofmybower,stillinshadow.Wedonotspeakorsmile.Alltheunspokenmysteriesofpubertytrembleintheair.IdonotknowwhyIcannotspeak…andthenavoicecalled.Li-ly!Li-ly!"Thespellwasbroken.Andallmypastwasbroken,too.DoyouknowthatimagefromSeferis’Thebrokenpomegranateisfullofstars’?Itwaslikethat.Shedisappeared,Isatdownagain,buttoreadwasimpossible.

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