Волхв

Chapter 42

           Sittinginthegrassbesidethearborweletthesunandthesmallbreezedryusandatethelastofthechocolate.ThenAlisonlayonherback,herarmsthrownout,herlegsalittleopen,abandonedtothesunand,Iknew,tome.ForatimeIlaylikeher,withmyeyesclosed.Thenshesaid,"I’mQueenoftheMay."Shewassittingup,turnedtome,proppedononearm.Shehadwovenaroughcrownoutoftheoxeyesandwildpinksthatgrewinthegrassaroundus.Itsatlopsidedlyonheruncombedhair;andsheworeasmileoftouchinginnocence.Shedidnotknowit,butitwasatfirstformeanintenselyliterarymoment.Icouldplaceitexactly:England’sHelicon.Ihadforgottenthattherearemetaphorsandmetaphors,andthatthegreatestlyricsareveryrarelyanythingbutdirectandunmetaphysical.SuddenlyshewaslikesuchapoemandIfeltapassionatewaveofdesireforher.Itwasnotonlylust,notonlybecauseshelooked,asshedidinherperiodicfashion,disturbinglypretty,smallbreasted,smallwaisted,leaningononehand,dimpledthengrave;achildofsixteen,notagirloftwenty-four,butbecauseIwasseeingthroughalltheugly,theunpoeticaccretionsofmodernlifetothenakedrealselfofheravisionofherasnakedinthatwayasshewasinbody;Eveglimpsedagainthroughtenthousandgenerations.Itrushedonme,itwasquitesimple,Ididloveher,IwantedtokeepherandIwantedtokeeportofindLily.

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