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“НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ЛЮТИЙ 201 2 WWW. UNWLA.ORG 11 Lesya Ukrainka A Legend It happened at the beginning of time . The newly created earth, abounding in harmony and glorious life, glowed with a wondrous beauty. God's blissful and gracious dream flourished. Human life, flowing in gentle waves, merged with this vision into a single, dazzling, tranquil sea. There was pe ace on earth, and people lived se - renely. It continued like this for a long time. The Evil Spirit slept in a subterranean land. He slept for many ages, and his dreams were malevolent. Waking from his sleep , he shouted: "Wicked dreams are tormenting me! My soul is being torn apart, and I can find no peace. But there, on earth, a radiant peace prevails; the vision of my Enemy is flourishing and prospering, and nothing disturbs it. Am I to bear my searing affliction by myself? Am I to bury my dark woe? No, I will cast my grief into the heart of my Foe's dearest children. I will sow sorrow, like a black veil, among them, and the vision of my Enemy will be obscured." Bursting as black smoke out of the bosom of the earth and soaring over the land in a fiery clou d, the Evil Spirit flew over valleys graced by fields of undulating golden grain and thick stands of trees, their heavily laden branches bowing to the ground. Wherever he descended, the grain was scorched as if by fire, the fruit on the trees blackened, th e grass turned yellow, flowers withered — and a desert came into being. People, hiding from the blazing - hot wind in burrows and caves, groaned: "Famine . . . famine!" The Evil returned to his subterranean land and waited. A hundred years went by. The desert was once again transformed into a luxuriant land; once more, golden grain undulated, and thick stands of trees bowed down their heavy - laden branches. A new generation of people still related tales about the hunger of long ago, but the stories were slowly being forgotten. God's vision flour - ished as before, and peace enveloped the earth. But the Evil Spirit was not sleeping. He said to himself: "I will go and look at what my hands have wrought." Rising as a grey fog from the bosom of the earth, he soared ov er the land in a freezing cloud. He flew over mountain pastures and, wherever large herds grazed and people were encamped, he appeared as an impenetrable dark - ness, as a pernicious pestilence. Cattle died, people perished, and a terrible lament rolled thro ugh the mountains: "Death . . . death!" The herds vanished, the camps emptied... The Evil Spirit returned to his subterranean land and waited. A hundred years went by. The graves of the people who had succumbed to the pestilence were lushly overgrown with grass, and the descendants of these victims walked serenely over mountain pastures, cheerfully playing the sopilka [shepherd's flute] and calling together their countless herds. T he camps, gleaming with white tents, teemed with life. No one remembered or spoke about the calamitous pestilence. God's vision flourished as before, and there was peace on earth. In his subterranean land, the Evil Spirit sat and pondered. And, out of his thoughts, he created a marvellous being. It sparkled like the morning star and, like fire, continually altered its appearance. The Evil Spirit breathed life into this being and named it Happiness . Lifting it up on his powerful wings, he soared with it high above the earth. It was the dead of night, and people were slumbering in t he camps. Only some young herders — who never slept at night — were sitting around a bonfire, singing. The youngest one was playing a sopilka and gazing up at the heavens, and his eyes were serene as the stars. A large, brilliant star tumbled down from the sk y. Seeing it fall, the young herder dropped his sopilka and clutched at his chest. The star had wounded his heart. He shouted loudly: "Look! Look!" And all the herders turned their eyes to where he was pointing — to the spot where the star had fallen. The st ar, landing on a high mountain, burst into a blaze of light that flamed alluringly and enticed their hearts. The young herder called out to his brethren: "Come, let us go there!" And they all walked towards the light. And each one of them saw in that light something that was more precious to him that life itself, and each one saw something different. They felt as if the fire were blazing in their souls. They went farther and farther, but the light kept moving away from them. They continued walking, piercing their feet on prickly thorns, ripping their garments on sharp thistles, and marking their footsteps with a trail of blood. They kept pressing forward and then, one by one, as their strength failed them, they dropped by the wayside. And the luminous, wonde rful being, receding ever farther and farther into the distance, and changing its form ever more frequently, vanished in the fog. Daylight came, but the marvellous being did not return, and no one found it.
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