Page:Karl Gjellerup - The Pilgrim Kamanita - 1911.djvu/161

 possessing the whole heartsome freshness of the natural odour of flowers.

From this enchanting bank the ravished glance swept away between masses of splendid trees, some loftily piercing the sky, others with broader summit and deeper shade, many clad in emerald foliage, numbers resplendent with jewelled blossoms, standing now singly, now in groups, anon forming deep, forest glades, on to where craggy heights of the most alluring description displayed their graces of crystal, marble, and alabaster, here naked, there covered with dense shrubbery or veiled in airy drapery of flowers. But at one spot groves and rocks disappeared entirely to make room for a beautiful river, which poured its waters silently into the lake like a stream of starry light.

Over the whole region the sky formed an arch, the deep blue of which grew deeper as it neared the horizon, and under this dome hung white, massy cloudlets on which reclined lovely genii, who drew from their instruments the magic strains of rapturous melodies that filled the whole of space.

But in that sky there was no sun to be seen, and, indeed, there was no need for any sun. For from the cloudlets and the genii, from the rocks and flowers, from the waters, and from the lotus roses, from the garments of the Blest, and, in even greater degree, from their faces, a marvellous light shone forth. And just as this light was of radiant clearness—without, however, dazzling in the least—so the soft, perfume-laden warmth was freshened by the constant breath of the waters, and the inhaling of this air alone was a pleasure which nothing on earth could equal.

When Kamanita had so far grown accustomed to the sight of all these splendours that they no longer overpowered him, but began to seem like his natural surround-