Page:Karl Gjellerup - The Pilgrim Kamanita - 1911.djvu/189

 "Let us go there," said Vasitthi. "Oh, how often have I, down in the sad valleys of earth, looked up to the distant reflection of the heavenly stream, and thought of the blessed plains that are enfolded and watered by it, and asked myself if we should really one day be united in this place of bliss. Now I feel myself irresistibly drawn thither, to linger with thee on its shores."

They withdrew from the chain of dancers and turned their flight in a direction which led them far from their own lake. After some time they saw no more lotus ponds, nor lotus roses bearing happy beings; the wealth of blossoms decreased perceptibly; more and more rarely did they meet the figures of the Blest; herds of antelopes here gave life to the plain; on the lakes swans glided along, drawing trains of glistening waves behind them over the dark waters. The hills, which in the beginning had grown ever steeper and more rocky, disappeared entirely.

They floated over a flat, desert-like plain covered with tiger-grass and thorny shrubs. Before them lay stretched the endless curves of a forest of palms.

They reached the forest. More and more deeply did the shadows close around them. The ringed trunks gleamed like bronze. High above them, the tree-tops resounded with a clang as of metal.

In front, glistening points and streaks of light began to dance. And suddenly there streamed towards them such a blaze of light that they were obliged to hold their hands before their eyes. It seemed as though there stood in the forest a gigantic colonnade of burnished silver pillars flashing back the light of the rising sun.

When they ventured again to remove their hands from their faces, they were just floating out between the last of the forest palms.