It is said that Set, the power of Evil, tore the body of
Osiris into fourteen fragments and scattered them over the land. But
multitudes of worshippers of Osiris believed him buried near Abydos and,
like those who loved the sweet songs of Hafiz, they desired to be buried
near him whom they adored; and so this place became a place of the dead,
a place of many prayers, a white place of many longings.
I was glad to be alone there. The guardian left me in perfect peace. I
happily forgot him. I sat down in the shadow of a column upon its mighty
projecting base. The sky was blinding blue. Great bees hummed, like
bourdons, through the silence, deepening the almost heavy calm. These
columns, architraves, doorways, how mighty, how grandly strong they
were! And yet soon I began to be aware that even here, where surely one
should read only the Book of the Dead, or bend down to the hot ground
to listen if perchance one might hear the dead themselves murmuring over
the chapters of Beatification far down in their hidden tombs, there was
a likeness, a gentle gaiety of life, as in the tomb of Thi. The effect
of solidity was immense. These columns bulged, almost like great fruits
swollen out by their heady strength of blood. They towered up in crowds.
The heavy roof, broken in places most mercifully to show squares and
oblongs of that perfect, calling blue, was like a frowning brow. And yet
I was with grace, with gentleness, with lightness, because in the place
of the dead I was again with the happy, living walls.
Pages:
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29