Дюна

           ThehangingsrustledasGurneyreturnedwithhisbaliset.Hebegantuningit,avoidingtheireyes.Thehangingsonthewallsdulledtheechoes,makingtheinstrumentsoundsmallandintimate.

           Paulledhismothertoacushion,seatedhertherewithherbacktothethickdraperiesofthewall.Hewassuddenlystruckbyhowoldsheseemedtohimwiththebeginningsofdesert-driedlinesinherface,thestretchingatthecornersofherblue-veiledeyes.

           She’stired,hethought.Wemustfindsomewaytoeaseherburdens.

           Gurneystrummedachord.

           Paulglancedathim,said:“I’ve...thingsthatneedmyattention.Waithereforme.”

           Gurneynodded.Hismindseemedfaraway,asthoughhedwelledforthismomentbeneaththeopenskiesofCaladanwithcloudfleeceonthehorizonpromisingrain.

           Paulforcedhimselftoturnaway,lethimselfoutthroughtheheavyhangingsoverthesidepassage.HeheardGurneytakeupatunebehindhim,andpausedamomentoutsidetheroomtolistentothemutedmusic.

           “Orchardsandvineyards,

           Andfull-breastedhouris,

           Andacupoverflowingbeforeme.

           WhydoIbabbleofbattles,

           Andmountainsreducedtodust?

           WhydoIfeelthesetears?

           Heavensstandopen

           Andscattertheirriches;

           Myhandsneedbutgathertheirwealth.

           WhydoIthinkofanambush,

           Andpoisoninmoltencup?

           WhydoIfeelmyyears?

           Love’sarmsbeckon

           Withtheirnakeddelights,

           AndEden’spromiseofecstasies.

           WhydoIrememberthescars,

           Dreamofoldtransgressions...

           AndwhydoIsleepwithfears?”

           ArobedFedaykincourierappearedfromacornerofthepassageaheadofPaul.