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?