Tuesday, 12 October 2010

In my heart Ossian has replaced Homer. He leads me everywhere! To walk on the deserted land, as the wind is sweeping away the spirits of our ancestors in the trembling moon light. To hear, coming slowly from the mountains, the voices of crying spirits buried in caves and the lament of the girl mourning, by four tombstones covered with musk, for his dead lover!And when I find him, the grey haired bard, who wanders around the lands in search of his forefathers but finds instead their graves, and, crying, he looks at the sweet evening star about to be swallowed by the sea, and in his soul past ages are revived, times when a benevolent ray still alerted sailors of imminent dangers and the moon brightened their ship which, adorned with flowers, was taken back to the port. When I read grief on his forehead, and when I see him crawling to his own grave, and how he always absorbs joys that are new and burning from the sterile presence of the shadows of his forefathers and, looking at the cold ground, at the dark grass, he cries: " The Errant will come, the one who knew me in my beauty, and he will ask me: - Where is the bard, the son of Fingal? - His step goes beyond my grave and he pointlessly asks about me on Earth".
Like a noble knight, I would like to draw my sword and free my prince from the terrible pain of life and, after the freed semi god I would send my soul.

1 comment:

  1. Gosh! If you could carry on the story you might get rich.