Mystic 1800

I saw for a moment, surrounding blueness and infinity, and then they said to me, that I should watch where am I walking, so I won't trip on something. I listen their advice, and walking on the path, which was smooth and obvious. No branches, just a few light turnings. It was dry and clean, and so trodden that I got the feeling, that for centuries no one step off it.

But I heard of some, which walk off this path, and they lost themselves in endlessness of dark and dangerous forests and I hoped so dearly, that, something like that wouldn't happened to me. I was walking for quite some time, in admiration and pride of the trails I was leaving in mud and patches of snow, which were situated in shadows of ancient trees. Path was dark and pastel, but I never raised my look again, just like all those which were walking beside me, and behind me, and those which catch me up, and those who I catch up, never raised their look up.

I loved some of them, without ever even looking their faces, and I was listening them, but never asked who they really are, and they never asked me, who I really am. We were talking only about our trails, and about path, which was common to all of us, and which was leading us to the same unknown destination. We were so proud of our steps, though they were melting away or were stumped all over - mutilated and erased. Just from time to time, we saw a miracle in dirty puddle, which was reflecting the blueness, so familiar to all of us, as we all saw it in long forgotten beginning.

I was walking on the edge of the path, and slowly I walked off it, not that I would want that, not that I would know when or how. So I found myself alone in waste land, and there was no path ahead of me anymore, and there was no trails behind me, and fear was strangling and choking me, and solitude and silence ruled my world and accomplishing all of the steps I cowardly did. I made confused and frightened step, and I slip and fall; and the pain and darkness was in me even before I landed on the ground.

There was nothing anymore, but the thought of death, which lasted endlessly, until finally, weary of waiting the death to come, I opened my eyes.

I was blinded for a moment, and then I saw something I didn't saw since the very beginning of my life. It was that infinite blueness, painted with clouds, which glided so lightly and smoothly through the sky, and they were lighter than anything I saw on my path.

I was lying there, and there was no want in me, for my eyes to see anything else, but this boundlessness, and the moment lasted for years, before the desire, to stand up again, appeared.

When I stood up, I looked the landscape through which I was walking for all my time, and I saw it so green, covered in spring, lighted by wonderful sunrise, full of trees, birds and butterflies and there - not so far from where I was standing - the river, blue as the sky itself, flowing into the infinite blueness of sea, which was merged with the sky.

In that moment, I became aware, and I started to running, I was jumping all over, breathing, feeling my heart beat, running straightly, directed towards infinite water, which was calling me.

I arrived in the evening, when the moon was rising, so close that I could touch it, but yet so far, that I could never reach it, in the space that doesn't exist.

And the night came, and the stars were twinkling, and I haven't breath anymore, and I haven't feel the beating of my heart and I haven't saw through my eyes, and I haven't felt on my skin. Now, the wind was carrying me into unknown distances, over infinite sea, and I was the wind, and I was the sea and the stars.

Slovenian Version: Sprehod

I first wrote this in Slovenian version. It was the idea to write something nice, and rich. The translation in English, it's a bit clumsy. It's lack quite a lot, compared to Slovenian version.

Videl sem, za sam trenutek, modrino in neskončnost ki me je obdajala in nato so mi rekli naj gledam kje hodim – da se ne spotaknem. Poskušal sem jih, in korakal, po poti ki je bila gladka in očitna – in brez odcepov, zgolj z rahlimi ovinki. Bila je suha in čista in tako shojena, da se je zdelo da ni stoletja niče zavil niti malo iz nje.

Slišal pa sem, da so bili, ki so zavili in se izgubili v brezkončnosti temnih in nevarnih gozdov in upal sem, da se meni to ne more zgoditi. Hodil sem precej časa, občudujoč in ponosen na sledi, ki sem jih puščal v blatu in zaplatah snega, ki so ležale v sencah prastarih dreves. Pot je bila temna in pastelna – a nikoli več nisem dvignil pogleda, kot tudi nihče izmed teh, ki so hodili ob meni in kateri so hodili za mano in kateri so me dohiteli in katere sem dohitel jaz.

Ljubil sem nekatere, ne da bi jim bil kdaj sploh pogledal v obraz, in poslušal sem jih in nikoli vprašal kdo so, in nikoli niso vprašali kdo sem jaz, zgolj o stopinjah smo govorili in o poti, ki nam je bila vsem skoraj čisto enaka – in katera nas je vse vodila do enakega neznanega kraja. Ponosni smo bili na svoje stopinje, čeprav so se talile stran ali so jih drugi za nami shodili in izmaličili in izbrisali. Samo občasno smo ozrli čudež, v umazani mlakuži – bil je odsev modrine ki smo jo videli nekoč v pozabljenem začetku.

Hodil sem precej ob robu poti in počasi zavil iz nje, ne da bi bil to hotel, ne da bi bil vedel kdaj in kako. Tako sem se znašel sam, v pustinji in pred mano ni bilo več poti in za mano ni bilo več sledi in strah me je davil in me dušil in samota in tihota je odtlej vladala in spremljala vsak moj strahopeten korak. Stopil sem zmedeno in prestrašeno in v trenutku mi je zdrsnilo in padel sem in bolečina in tema je bila še preden sem pristal na tleh.

Nič več ni bilo kot misel na smrt, ki je trajala brez konca in kraja dokler nisem končno, naveličan čakanja na konec, odprl oči.

Takrat se mi je zableščalo in videl sem nekaj česar nisem videl že od samega začetka mojega obstoja. Bila je tista neskončna modrina – nebo in oblaki ki so lahkotno drseli počasni in bolj beli od česarkoli kar sem uzrl na svoji poti.

Ležal sem brez želje da moje oči vidijo še kaj druga kot to brezmejnost, in trenutek je bil, ki je trajal leta preden se je pojavila želja da zopet vstanem.

Ko sem vstal sem prvič pogledal deželo po kateri sem hodil vsej svoj čas in videl sem jo zeleno, odeto v pomlad in čudovito osvetljeno od sonca, polno dreves, metuljev in tam nedaleč od mene – reko, modro kot nebo ki se je zlivala v neskončno modrino morja, katerega ni bilo mogoče več ločiti od neba.

Zdaj sem vedel in se pognal, preskakoval, dihal, čutil utrip srca, tekel – naravnost, usmerjen k neskončni vodi, ki me je klicala.

Prispel sem na večer, ko je luna vzhajala tako blizu da bi se je lahko dotaknil in tako daleč da je ne bi mogel nikoli doseči, v prostoru ki ga ni.

In prišla je noč in zvezde so utripale in nisem več dihal in nisem več slišal utripa svojega srca in nisem več videl, čez svoje oči in ne več čutil na svoji koži. Zdaj me je veter nesel v daljavo, čez neskončno morje in jaz sem bil veter in jaz sem bil morje in zvezde.