. The book of months . GUST streamed silently out into the brilliant sunshineof the late afternoon. The sun was near to itssetting, and the whole plain below us was steep-ed and stupefied in the level rays. A blue haze ofheat mist lay over the farther hills, emphasizingthe enlacement of their ridges, which stood outlike the muscles of some strong arm. But abovethe theatre were the quiet pine woods, hardlywhispering, so still was the evening, and it wasto them that my friend and I turned—for thepoisonous enchantment of Klingsor had to beexpelled, and we neither of us cared to join inshrill disc
. The book of months . GUST streamed silently out into the brilliant sunshineof the late afternoon. The sun was near to itssetting, and the whole plain below us was steep-ed and stupefied in the level rays. A blue haze ofheat mist lay over the farther hills, emphasizingthe enlacement of their ridges, which stood outlike the muscles of some strong arm. But abovethe theatre were the quiet pine woods, hardlywhispering, so still was the evening, and it wasto them that my friend and I turned—for thepoisonous enchantment of Klingsor had to beexpelled, and we neither of us cared to join inshrill discussions about the exquisite phrasing ofKundry, since it was her seduction, not herphrases, that more occupied us. For an hourthe evil flowers had bloomed; and that evil wasnot of the foul sort that makes one turn from it,but of the seemingly innocent welcome of maid-ens that were flowers and of an evil womanwho spoke not of evil things but of sweet things—a mothers love and her own love for her who195 miw-- *^J f t. ,... ■■^^-•■■■■•■■vi. ^K^. .■t-^. ■••.■■■3- its!?. ■•.* ^^tJjiA PW THE BOOK OF MONTHS was gone. So we sat in the pine woods and letthe fermenting vat of sin lose its effervescence,and waited till the sour-smelling bubbles brokeno more on its iridescent surface. And the sunsank till it touched the hills, and where it touch-ed they changed to semi-transparent amber: anda crescent moon arose in the east and one birdfluted in the bush. Then the first trumpet frombelow sounded the motif of the love-feast, anddown we went. From the mad fires of the sun-set we passed into the cool gloom of the theatreand the doors were shut, and soon the curtainrose on the last act. So were the wanderings of Parsifal accom-plished, yet he remained still the pure youthwho, once in ignorance of suffering, had shot aswan as it circled above a lake, wantonly andwithout thought. Yet when he saw it dead, thenfor the first time had pity knocke
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidcu3192401358, bookyear1903
