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the garden of allah-第103章

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white city; the distant mountains。 Having little to do; I sat day
after day for hours meditating; and looking out upon this distant
world。 I remember specially one evening; at sunset; just before I had
to go to the chapel; that a sort of awe came upon me as I looked
across the lakes。 The sky was golden; the waters were dyed with gold;
out of which rose the white sails of boats。 The mountains were shadowy
purple。 The little minarets of the mosques rose into the gold like
sticks of ivory。 As I watched my eyes filled with tears; and I felt a
sort of aching in my heart; and as ifDomini; it was as if at that
moment a hand was laid; on mine; but very gently; and pulled at my
hand。 It was as if at that moment someone was beside me in the
cemetery wishing to lead me out to those far…off waters; those mosque
towers; those purple mountains。 Never before had I had such a
sensation。 It frightened me。 I felt as if the devil had come into the
cemetery; as if his hand was laid on mine; as if his voice were
whispering in my ear; 'Come out with me into that world; that
beautiful world; which God made for men。 Why do you reject it?'

〃That evening; Domini; was the beginning of thisthis end。 Day after
day I sat in the cemetery and looked out over the world; and wondered
what it was like: what were the lives of the men who sailed in the
white…winged boats; who crowded on the steamers whose smoke I could
see sometimes faintly trailing away into the track of the sun; who
kept the sheep upon the mountains; whowhoDomini; can you imagine
no; you cannotwhat; in a man of my age; of my blood; were these
first; very first; stirrings of the longing for life? Sometimes I
think they were like the first birth…pangs of a woman who is going to
be a mother。〃

Domini's hands moved apart; then joined themselves again。

〃There was something physical in them。 I felt as if my limbs had
minds; and that their minds; which had been asleep; were waking。 My
arms twitched with a desire to stretch themselves towards the distant
blue of the lakes on which I should never sail。 MyI was physically
stirred。 And again and again I felt that hand laid closely upon mine;
as if to draw me away into something I had never known; could never
know。 Do not think that I did not strive against these first stirrings
of the nature that had slept so long! For days I refused to let myself
look out from the cemetery。 I kept my eyes upon the ground; upon the
plain crosses that marked the graves。 I played with the red…eyed
doves。 I worked。 But my eyes at last rebelled。 I said to myself; 'It
is not forbidden to look。' And again the sails; the seas; the towers;
the mountains; were as voices whispering to me; 'Why will you never
know us; draw near to us? Why will you never understand our meaning?
Why will you be ignorant for ever of all that has been created for man
to know?' Then the pain within me became almost unbearable。 At night I
could not sleep。 In the chapel it was difficult to pray。 I looked at
the monks around me; to most of whom I had never addressed a word; and
I thought; 'Do they; too; hold such longings within them? Are they;
too; shaken with a desire of knowledge?' It seemed to me that; instead
of a place of peace; the monastery was; must be; a place of tumult; of
the silent tumult that has its home in the souls of men。 But then I
remembered for how long I had been at peace。 Perhaps all the silent
men by whom I was surrounded were still at peace; as I had been; as I
might be again。

〃A young monk died in the monastery and was buried in the cemetery。 I
made his grave against the outer wall; beneath a cypress tree。 Some
days afterwards; when I was sitting on the bench by the house of the
doves; I heard a sound; which came from beyond the wall。 It was like
sobbing。 I listened; and heard it more distinctly; and knew that it
was someone crying and sobbing desperately; and near at hand。 But now
it seemed to me to come from the wall itself。 I got up and listened。
Someone was crying bitterly behind; or above; the wall; just where the
young monk had been buried。 Who could it be? I stood listening;
wondering; hesitating what to do。 There was something in this sound of
lamentation that moved one to the depths。 For years I had not looked
on a woman; or heard a woman's voicebut I knew that this was a woman
mourning。 Why was she there? What could she want? I glanced up。 All
round the cemetery; as I have said; grew cypress trees。 As I glanced
up I saw one shake just above where the new grave was; and a woman's
voice said; 'I cannot see it; I cannot see it!'

〃I do not know why; but I felt that someone was there who wished to
see the young monk's grave。 For a moment I stood there。 Then I went to
the house where I kept my tools for my work in the cemetery; and got a
shears which I used for lopping the cypress trees。 I took a ladder
quickly; set it against the wall; mounted it; and from the cypress I
had seen moving I lopped some of the boughs。 The sobbing ceased。 As
the boughs fell down from the tree I saw a woman's face; tear…stained;
staring at me。 It seemed to me a lovely face。

〃'Which is his grave?' she said。 I pointed to the grave of the young
monk; which could now be seen through the gap I had made; descended
the ladder; and went away to the farthest corner of the cemetery。 And
I did not look again in the direction of the woman's face。

〃Who she was I do not know。 When she went away I did not see。 She
loved the monk who had died; and knowing that women cannot enter the
precincts of the monastery; she had come to the outside wall to cast;
if she might; a despairing glance at his grave。

〃Domini; I wonderI wonder if you can understand how that incident
affected me。 To an ordinary man it would seem nothing; I suppose。 But
to a Trappist monk it seemed tremendous。 I had seen a woman。 I had
done something for a woman。 I thought of her; of what I had done for
her; perpetually。 The gap in the cypress tree reminded me of her every
time I looked towards it。 When I was in the cemetery I could hardly
turn my eyes from it。 But the woman never came again。 I said nothing
to the Reverend Pere of what I had done。 I ought to have spoken; but I
did not。 I kept it back when I confessed。 From that moment I had a
secret; and it was a secret connected with a woman。

〃Does it seem strange to you that this secret seemed to me to set me
apart from all the other monksnearer the world? It was so。 I felt
sometimes as if I had been out into the world for a moment; had known
the meaning that women have for men。 I wondered who the woman was。 I
wondered how she had loved the young monk who was dead。 He used to sit
beside me in the chapel。 He had a pure and beautiful face; such a
face; I supposed; as a woman might well love。 Had this woman loved
him; and had he rejected her love for the life of the monastery? I
remember one day thinking of this and wondering how it had been
possible for him to do so; and then suddenly realising the meaning of
my thought and turning hot with shame。 I had put the love of woman
above the love of God; woman's service above God's service。 That day I
was terrified of myself。 I went back to the monastery from the
cemetery; quickly; asked to see the Reverend Pere; and begged him to
remove me from the cemetery; to give me some other work。 He did not
ask my reason for wishing to change; but three days afterwards he sent
for me; and told me that I was to be placed in charge of the
/hotellerie/ of the monastery; and that my duties there were to begin
upon the morrow。

〃Domini; I wonder if I can make you realise what that change meant to
a man who had lived as I had for so many years。 The /hotellerie/ of
El…Largani is a long; low; one…storied building standing in a garden
full of palms and geraniums。 It contains a kitchen; a number of little
rooms like cells for visitors; and two large parlours in which guests
are entertained at meals。 In one they sit to eat the fruit; eggs; and
vegetables provided by the monastery; with wine。 If after the meal
they wish to take coffee they pass into the second parlour。 Visitors
who stay in the monastery are free to do much as they please; but they
must conform to certain rules。 They rise at a certain hour; feed at
fixed times; and are obliged to go to their bedrooms at half…past
seven in the evening in winter; and at eight in summer。 The monk in
charge of the /hotellerie/ has to see to their comfort。 He looks after
the kitchen; is always in the parlour at some moment or another during
meals。 He visits the bedrooms and takes care that the one servant
keeps everything spotlessly clean。 He shows people round the garden。
His duties; you see; are light and social。 He cannot go into the
world; but he can mix with the world that comes to him。 It is his
task; if not his pleasure; to be cheerful; talkative; sympathetic; a
good host; with a genial welcome for all who come to La Trappe。 After
my years of labour; solitude; silence; and prayer; I was abruptly put
into this new life。

〃Domini; to me it was like rushing out into the world。 I was almost
dazed by the change。 At first I was nervous; timid; awkward; and;
especially; tongue…tied。 The habit of
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