[ 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 never-ending 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 never-ending 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 never-ending darkness, she would always be able to hear his flute, for it
was his music that summoned the amnesia of hell. Thus was the repose of the
woman, as she reclined on a dark tree by the 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।
