"The Happy Valley" ch. 9
By Annemarie Schwarzenbach. Abridged and translated by Cleo Varra
Previous: "The Happy Valley" ch. 8
The fever passed- I cried until my heart was exhausted and my head was completely empty. - Then when I got up to continue on my way, I saw the empty horizons in an unforgivingly clear light. - Yes, continuing on the same path - what else could I do?
"But you can stop, no law compels you, you have not given your word to anyone, you are not bound to any destination or time - why hurry so? - Live a little from the richness of your memories, allow yourself a little contemplation, allow yourself a detour into green oases, take part in the simple pleasures of eating in their secluded gardens: you will be full and feel a pleasant tiredness. Aren’t you tempted to read the heroic poems and love songs in the open books? To discover the delight of golden-red and Persian-blue miniatures? -Express a wish-, but make it achievable-, set yourself new tasks, but be sure to complete them. Your defiance is worrying: what awaits you on the edge of icy nights?"
Leave me alone! - I am overcome by I don’t know what, despair at the sight of your freshly-dyed carpets. I am not defiant, but helpless. Ah, I do not boast of any special protection! My courage does not extend very far, sometimes I can hardly keep my wits about me, a rustling in the branches makes me tremble. The windmills of Don Quixote are tangible compared to the horrors that I am exposed to, my misgivings are threatened with new confirmations every day. And fear has made me touched -, the fear without a face, without a name. Sometimes it walks before me like an angel of death, then the fields die out and the white-crusted shores of the salt lakes spread around me. What do I have left? - The imprint of delicate hooves, mussels, grasses, petrified salamanders, the mournful call of migrating birds. I cry - nobody hears me. Terrible futility of every rebellion? The oppressive melancholy of foreign lands! The fear, the lonely longing…
I must find the images that my soul loves again.
Do I know which horizons it is looking for?
I received the gift of a terrible freedom…
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