Вітер у вербах
The Piper at the Gates of Dawn
"Here,inthisholyplace,hereifanywhere,surelyweshallfindHim!"
ThensuddenlytheMolefeltagreatAwefalluponhim,anawethatturnedhismusclestowater,bowedhishead,androotedhisfeettotheground.Itwasnopanicterror—indeedhefeltwonderfullyatpeaceandhappy—butitwasanawethatsmoteandheldhimand,withoutseeing,heknewitcouldonlymeanthatsomeaugustPresencewasvery,verynear.Withdifficultyheturnedtolookforhisfriend,andsawhimathisside,cowed,stricken,andtremblingviolently.Andstilltherewasuttersilenceinthepopulousbird-hauntedbranchesaroundthem;andstillthelightgrewandgrew.
Perhapshewouldneverhavedaredtoraisehiseyes,butthat,thoughthepipingwasnowhushed,thecallandthesummonsseemedstilldominantandimperious.Hemightnotrefuse,wereDeathhimselfwaitingtostrikehiminstantly,oncehehadlookedwithmortaleyeonthingsrightlykepthidden.
