Songs of Nowhere

[ Ego, Orpheus, dum ad ripas fluminis nigri tibia cano, ad amatam meam reditum somniavi.]

Even when she was painting, Shanaya’s thoughts unknowingly wandered to Orpheus, as if she was charmed by the crescent moon. The woman painted of lunatic shadows, of hearsay, and of bygone pebbles in the dark waters of the black river. She wanted to paint the moonlight on the river, but was unsure if the river would welcome her. Even so, Shanaya sought the dusk in no uncertain terms, as she wanted to separate her lover from his darkness.

She instinctively realized that the dark river was born of the revenge of Vice, encircling Orpheus like a terrible curse. The thoughts of Orpheus’ lifeless body floating in the river alarmed her, and she could never bring herself to paint this vision. Instead, she concealed her tears in shades of the sleepy dawn, of seeing him walking alone by the shore, far and far into the realms of the underworld.

Although his flute comforted her with an immortal melody, she secretly worried that their destinies would never cross paths and one day Orpheus would forget everything she whispered to him. However, every time she thought of such ominous endings, she could visualize a dead body floating downstream, whose face may look like that of Orpheus, but was nothing like him. In her fever, she wondered if this vision was a sign, a mournful story that the forbidden forest wanted her to listen to.

It was as if his music was an unbearable loss for the dead, even more for the river herself. She would paint the river assuming the form of a black snake, coldly encircling the body for a last kiss. Shanaya herself was never so close to death, and to eternal life, except for her love for Orpheus. In her soliloquies, she often wished that she would ask him about the endless tyranny of his flute, how the dead disappeared in the river whenever she thought of being separated forever.   

Thus was the reverie of the woman, as she sought of death as her lover, even so smiling in her fancies, imagining playful moments under the autumn sun.   

Si est oblita parvis luna, si privatus amore non caret vixit

Allicit somnis corpore, mihi tempora oblivionis terrorem vicis sunt

Aquous mortuos assumit; tu rivos amnis arcere consequeris

Tu amor, tu libertas; mihi est mors

Absolvi vitia, absolvi me, evadi in nihilum.

यदि क्षुद्रैः विस्मृता चन्द्रमा, यदि एकान्ती प्रेम्णा न हीनः—सः जीवितवान्।

एतत् स्वप्नैः शरीरं मोहयति; मम कृते विस्मृतेः कालाः भाग्यस्य त्रासः सन्ति।

कृष्णनदी मृतान् गृह्णाति; त्वं नद्याः प्रवाहान् रोद्धुं शक्नोषि।

त्वम् एव प्रेम, त्वम् एव मुक्तिः; मम कृते मृत्युः अस्ति।

मया पापानि मुक्तानि, अहम् आत्मना मुक्तः, अहं शून्यतायां लीनः।

The Trees Reveal a Secret

[ Ego, Orpheus, mē Satanān esse dīcere nōluī, nam amōrem meum timidum meī facere nōluī.]

On cloudy days, Shanaya gently waited on her amethyst terrace, at the shadowy sun disappearing in the heart of the woods. The setting sun depressed her, as she quietly feared a neverending night, an emptiness denying her the flute of her lover. She would look through the amethyst, as if she were surrounded by the evening clouds, to see the swallows fly to their nests in the forbidden forest.

Before drifting to sleep, Shanaya would remind herself that she must find the courage to walk amidst the blackened trees in the morning, hoping that the lonely night will not last forever. She was not afraid, for her lover had walked in those same forests, and she would not think twice about following him even in the darkest of nights. 

Sometimes, she would look for a solitary flower amidst the blackened trees, hoping that a new life shall return to them. She would often speak in the mysterious colors of the butterfly, trying to reassure the old woods of a youthful return, of new leaves, and maybe, of a new night. She thought of trading her emeralds with fairies, hoping they might ask the old willow if Orpheus would know how to turn the green stones into new leaves. She would quietly ask the fairies to take her lonely tears and turn them into dew drops, just so the flower may blossom, a gift that she wanted to share with him.

On one such day, as she was enamored by the purple wings of a butterfly, the trees revealed a secret that she scarcely believed. She had ventured deep in the woods, tracing the footsteps of Orpheus, to find her flower. The night was falling, but she could only hear the music of a distant flute guiding her like a shining star in the northern sky.

She did not fear losing her way in the woods, as she believed her lover would safely carry her back to her sanctuary like a shadow in the moonlight. As she reached the shores of the lake of tears, she thus realized that even the neverending darkness belonged to Orpheus, as if his heart transforms into a black stone, a curse where the memories of the past were forgotten. She also sensed that this darkness was deliberate, as if Orpheus was hypnotizing the prisoners, leading them to a place of no return.     

Knowing this, she was comforted that even in the endless darkness, she would always hear his flute, for it was his music that summoned the amnesia of hell. Thus was the soliloquy of the woman, as she reclined on a dark tree by the serene lake, with her flower in her hair.

Tempora auctōris, est sēcum hypnosis trīstis

Memoria astrālis, sibilā, nōn tū restaurā et dēsiste condemnāre

Mīrāberis tē romanici, verētur amōrēs occurrēns eī

Sānctus est, et suprā morbōs, et ita intrat in Orcum

Litāre toxicī, cōnsīgnā terrōrēs, lūdent umbrae, abstineant.

Et tū, umbra, tū Satanās sāncte.

स्रष्टुः कालाः, स्वतःसिद्धा शोकमयी सम्मोहिनी च।

आकाशीयस्मृते, शिञ्जस्व; मा पुनरुत्थापय, निन्दितुं विरम च।

त्वं स्वकीये शृङ्गाररूपे विस्मयिष्यसे, तां मिलित्वा स रागान् मृत्युरिव पश्यति।

स पावनोऽस्ति, व्याधिभ्यः परश्च, तथैव स नरकं प्रविशति।

विषयुक्तं यज्ञं कुरु, त्रासान् मुद्रय; छायाः क्रीडिष्यन्ति, ताः विरमन्तु।

त्वं च, छाये, त्वमेव पावनः पातालदेवः।

As if A Distant Dream

[Ego, Orpheus, personam indui ut ad inferos descenderem, ne mea facies amatam terreret.]

She touched the very center of her mirror with shivering fingertips, and it dissolved into an icy mist where she could see him as he were. Haunted by her yearning, which she could not speak, she assumed her perfumed breath into the obscure aura of the glass set in bluish moonstones.

Sometimes she saw the tormented faces of the prisoners, a dissonance that led her to seek solace in the silver mask of her lover, as if she wanted to touch it. Her quietness was carried like dewdrops by the crystalline wings of the swans descending on the lake of tears, where she would wait with his feverish name on her lips. Sometimes, she thought that even the mirror should not hear her teary whispers, yet in the next pause of her heartbeat, she would again seek his face.  

Shanaya wondered why Orpheus wore the mask, as she did not want to understand why he would hide his face from her. She tried to trace his bare skin, but was deterred by an infinite sadness that seemed to lament, “Oh, the darkness; Oh, the sorrow!” She could feel that he had lost the prime of his youth, and the mask concealed this emptiness like a distant dream.

Shanaya tried to remember if she had ever seen Orpheus before she took notice of the silver mask. She asked the ancient trees whose branches were blackened by the fires of hell, and yet they were cold to her touch. The trees responded in the poetry of death, a monologue that she could perhaps read in those old woods.    

In a quiet desire, she wished that she would sit beside her lover when he played his flute, and implore him to show his tears so she could kiss them. Yet, she would not come near him, for their dream seemed so fragile that even a teardrop could break it into a thousand moonstones. She wanted to let Orpheus know that he was beautiful, but could not find the words to say it, fearing he would not believe it.

Thus was the solitude of the woman by the lake, secretly writing his name in the dust, wishing he would see how much she loved him.  

Directis facsimilitudo est iridescenti personae

Amore adamantino, si hic orbi astiti

Umbra marcida, mihi aeternae deprivatio animae

Est moriendum, est tremendum dirigi animum

Tu es perilis, apricus somnus mihi

Nihilum inferni, te solitum supra sanctum. 

ऋजुरूपप्रतीकाशो विचित्रे प्रतिमुखे ।

दृढप्रेम्णा यद्यत्राहं तिष्ठामि जगता सह ॥

म्लाना छाया ममैवास्ति नित्यस्यात्मनो वियोगः ।

मर्तव्यमेव कम्पितव्यं येन चेतो नियच्छति ॥

त्वमसि भयावहो ममोपरि सनातपो निद्रा ।

पातालस्य च शून्यता त्वं देवः स्वर्गे प्रतिष्ठितः ॥ 

The Bereaving Shadow of the Moon

[Ego, Orpheus, numquam cum aliō cōnfūsus sum; nam amor meus erat mūsa mea, et mūsa mea ob amōrem eius erat.]

The swans were whispering fragrant secrets amidst the serpentine trees, riddles sanctified by dark moss and winter’s lavender. Orpheus could recollect the wondrous blue halo, as if he were adorning her with night’s jewelry, of sadness painted in oceanic sapphires.

His was the forbidden forest, for his soul was darkened with ancient curses, of incantations of mermaids who imagined his body disappearing in the moonlight. The swans could see him from a distance, the riverine flute where they floated by, their pale wings carrying them to the soul of the cold moon. The angelic birds could feel his ardent call, like a memory of despair and hope that surrounded him, as if the forest was meditating in darkness.   

The birds were still indecisive; they did not know if Orpheus was one of the confined idols in the eighteen realms. They were not sure if they could trust him with their secrets. He sometimes looked like one of those whose skulls were half-buried in the valley of dry bones. His face looked similar to those who died all alone and were entombed in the corpus of the serpentine trees.

Orpheus did not seem to be misunderstood in himself. He often wore a mask made of silver, a mask that the swans recognized. His flute was speaking to Shanaya, not imploring, yet reminiscent of a distant past when they were separated. She followed Orpheus like a shadow, judging his every move on diamond scales, only to find that even all the treasures of her palace could not keep her away from him.

She could sense the swans whisper urgent endings, as the forest was eager to come alive in the darkness. The captives of the eighteen realms seemed to be conspiring against the swans, the trees, the flowers, and even her. Deep in her unmarried heart, she realized that she needed help, and only Orpheus could rescue her from her own darkness closing around her like a curse.

Thus was the tearful hope of the woman when she decided that she would call Orpheus, albeit in riddles, for she did not want to show herself.     

Sōlitārius ipse simul cremandō mihi occurrēns

Sentiō terrōrem absolvī, ego quī attestātus sum somnium

Quō inpulsus dēscendō in infernum? Ubi es, līberātor meus?

Ūnō sanguine dēcidēns, esne tū ūnus amor meus?

Esne tū sāncta persōna, esne deō similis?

Et tū mē amās?

एकाकी मम आत्मा समकालं मृत्युसमये माम् उपतिष्ठति,

मोक्षस्य भीतिं अनुभवामि—अहं यः स्वप्नस्य साक्षी अभवम्।

कुत्र प्रेरितः सन् नरकं अवतरामि? कुत्र असि मम मुक्तिदाता?

एकेन रक्तेन नश्यन्, किं त्वम् एव मम एकमात्रः प्रेमा?

किं त्वं पवित्रा आत्मा? किं त्वं देवसदृशः असि?

किं च त्वं मयि स्निह्यसि?

The Swan’s Cry

[ Ego, Orpheus, ab omnibus quos amabam amore privatus sum. Attamen credebam solum amorem posse feminam ad sanitatem mentis restituere. ]

The forbidden forest withheld a pale secret that no soul would know, not even the outstretched hands of men whose lots were cast. There were the namesakes of older idols willfully confined in the eighteen circles, conspiring against the swans with snares of betrayal. The monstrous trees were yet to turn into terrible serpents; their revenge was long due.

There was no one in sight, but Orpheus still remembered the faces of those who were about to die. Kings and beggars were treated alike in the valley of dry bones, where their last wishes were buried under the pretense of music. They were the same men who were cursed by the swans, but Orpheus did not know their fates when he exchanged his lofty greetings on the way.

The jewel thieves casually remarked that Orpheus would not last for a day, yet he did not seem to care about ominous endings. The only thought that occurred to him was the tragedy of human suffering, of all the souls he might salvage, and of all the souls he might condemn. He was deluded by his own compassion, trying in his heart that Christ shall be resurrected before the end of days.

The swans circled close to the crucifix in mournful flights, and the old hags in Golgotha were drooling on the blood of the innocents. Orpheus could see the shadow of Vice, yet he thought of it as love. He imagined the valley of skulls flourishing in wildflowers, of resurrection being more necessary than retribution. He could hear the wanton laughter of Vice in the taverns of men, but it did not occur to him that she was trying to kill him.  

The swans tried to warn him that Vice was conspiring against him, yet he thought of it as love. Shanaya was trying to speak in riddles, but he was still to face her curse. She despised Vice for fooling Orpheus, and she hated him for ignoring her. Orpheus was virtuous in his own ways, but she wished he would die helpless like the other suitors who asked for her hand.

Thus was the despair of the woman, who wished she would turn into an anguished swan and never come back. Orpheus walked toward the solitary valley, as his only thought was to save her from eternal hell.

Semper mortis liberari est ostium inferni

Tristi advolat lunaris cygnus sequens dolorem quem sentis

Nihil deterret est crypta celat, supra se terram parans

Occurit cruciatus, et tu oblivisceris tormenti fati

Homme reddendum, corpore se infitians

Apparuit olor, est descensus poetae mortis.

Et tu oblivisceris.

मृत्योधर्मान्मुक्तिरेव सर्वदा नरकद्वारं भवति।

चन्द्रहंसः खमुत्पत्य शोकाकुलं नरं मिलति, तव अनुभूयमानं कष्टं अनुसरन्।

शून्यं निवारयति; गुप्तगृहमेव निलीयते, स्वस्योपरि भूमिं सज्जीकुर्वत्।

यातना समागच्छति, त्वं च नियतेः क्लेशं विस्मरिष्यसि।

मानवस्य पुनरागमनं, शरीरेण स्वरूपं अपलपत।

हंसः प्रादुरभूत्; कालकवेः एषः अवतारः।

त्वं च विस्मरिष्यसि।

She Asks the Mirror

[Memini ut Orpheus aliquando a me distaret, nam cum eo eram cum solus esset. Etiam tum me ostendere non poteram, quia eum magis cognoscere volebam.]

As days went by, she could see her man walking deeper within the infernal realms, where life holds little meaning unless it is saved. He had a strange look in his dark eyes, as if he was trying to save not himself, but his music withered in terrible endings; verses of lust that were interwoven with the feminine.

She could feel his despair when he saw that his soul was inscribed on malformed tombstones, where he could never die. The woman could perceive the echo of a distant era, lost scriptures, words that were written down in terrifying consequences long ago. Vaguely though, Orpheus seemed to walk quietly in a trance to find who he was from another life, yet somehow aware that he had never died, but had once decided to return to hell, and had returned there.  

Shanaya could never understand the need for hell, or for even him to venture without armor. She did not ideate on the urgency of redemption, for she felt she was not accountable. Yet, she would not stay away from Orpheus, for only he could love her like she had always imagined.

She sought quiet solace by the banks of the black river, where she imbued the darkness and wove her desolation with the pervading sorrow. It was here, where she could see her shadow, she devised that she must mirror Orpheus, who would think of her as if he were talking to himself.

She could easily become one with the endlessness, being immortal. Yet, she could not step into the nightmares of hell as Orpheus did, as she was deterred by a forbiddance that Orpheus commanded unto the underworld.

She ardently hoped that her lover would know that she waited upon him to restore her sanity, when she could do nothing but cry in front of the mirror. Love, love was all she had when Shanaya reclined with her veena, as the lonesome evenings were fleeting into the sadness of yesterdays.

Thus was the desire of the woman, as she yearned for Orpheus.

Sic destruitur tribulatus simplex homme se tristis

Sic sanctum corpus divisum paratur inferno

Nunc insignia, nunc agnatio, se qui sagi, se qui sator

Mihi corporeum speculum, mihi sensus externi

Invoco spiritus astrorum, liberatum est, est seminatum

Mihi accidit confessio, apparuit in somnis.

 

एवं नश्यति सञ्जातो मुग्धमनुष्यः स च दुःखितः

एवं पवित्रकलेवरं विभक्तं निरयाय सज्जते

अधुना चिह्नानि अधुना वंशः यः प्राज्ञः यः स्रष्टा।

मह्यं शारीरदर्पणं मह्यं बाह्येन्द्रियाणि

आह्वयामि नक्षत्राणां आत्मनः तत् मुक्तं तत् वप्तम्

मम जातं वर्णनं तत् स्वप्नेषु प्रादुरासीत्।

Amidst the Trees

[Cum Orpheum in tartara descendentem viderim et ab eo liberatus sim, intellegere possum eius fallaciam mortalibus destinatam esse, non mihi, qui supra cryptam sum.]

The quietness of the whispers quivered like the first leaf of the ancient tree, unbeknownst to the woman who wished she could sit in its shadow. The rivulets of dewdrops were forming on her lips as she silently wept for Orpheus. She could still hear the distant flute, which felt like the sighs of swans, as they disappeared amidst the trees.   

She could never cast away Orpheus, for he had himself descended into hell. She could never hold his hand and ask him in paradise, for he had been misunderstood. She could do nothing to be by his side, except pray, and pray to whom? Orpheus seemed oblivious to everything, even her prayers. He did not seek mercy or forgiveness. He did not seek her blessings, nor did he ask for her hand in marriage. Even when he played his flute, he did not seem to want anyone coming near.  

Shanaya asked the mirror to show her the eyes of her lover when he dreamed. Yet, she could only see an endless blue ocean, where all creation ceased to exist. She roamed amidst the sage trees, hoping that they would understand her and let her know that Orpheus might have remembered her in a dream, far, far away. When there was nothing, she could see a man walking towards the dark forest when the sky was darker. 

She could see shadows forming on the horizon, and sensed the specter of death looming over the world of mortals. She imagined Orpheus might have smiled at the darkness, for he was inseparable from what she saw in her dreams. Whispers of an ancient age drifted from desolate temples in the forest to the hearts of all mortals, who felt as if they were living on borrowed time.

Shanaya decided that she would conceal her questions in songs that the dead left behind in the realms. She decided to test Orpheus, knowing in her fever that he himself was beyond all the trials, for his was the illusion of life, and his was the shadow on her.

Thus was the askance of the woman when she gently let the black river take her lamp to oblivion.  

Orbavi atrocem realitatem in corde, quae se in mysteriis tenet

Profundo tristitiae amore ego teneri videor

Mortui sentiunt aevum, erratis et perivistis

Si super cryptam es, si reclusae societatis es

Tu serpens es, tu forsitan me non decipias

Discrimen arboreum, temptatio spectralium somniorum.

Ergo me lugere decet ut Orpheum.

हृदये क्रूरामविन्दं मायां या रहस्ये निगूढा तिष्ठति।

गाढदुःखानुरागेण बद्धोऽस्मीति मन्ये।

मृता अनन्ततां जानन्ति, यूयं भ्रमत विनष्टाश्च।

यदि त्वं श्मशानोपरि असि, यदि त्वं गुप्तसमाजे असि।

त्वं सर्पोऽसि, कदाचिन्मां न वञ्चयेः।

वृक्षाणां दारुणपरीक्षा, छायामयानां स्वप्नानां विषम्।

तस्माद् ओर्फीयस् इव मया रोदितुं न्याय्यम्।