large/9676/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_06_dunsany_64kb_15
large/9676/unhappy_far-off_things_1701_librivox_64kb_mp3/unhappyfaroffthings_06_dunsany_64kb
English
9676
They are gone, those times, gone like the Dinosaur; gone with bows and arrows and the old knightlier days. No splendour marks their sunset where I sit, no dignity of houses, or derelict engines of war, mined all equally are scattered dirtily in the mud, and common weeds overpower them; it is not ruin but rubbish that covers the ground here and spreads its untidy flood for hundreds and hundreds of miles. THEY ARE GONE THOSE TIMES GONE LIKE THE KNODS WORK GONE WITH BOWS AND ARROWS AND THE OLD NIGHTLIER DAYS NO SPLENDOUR MARKS THEIR SUNSET WHERE I SIT NO DIGNITY OF HOUSES OR DERELICT ENGINES OF WAR MIND ALL EQUALLY ARE SCATTERED DIRTILY IN THE MUD AND COMMON WEEDS OVERPOWER THEM IT IS NOT RUIN BUT RUBBISH THAT COVERS THE GROUND HERE AND SPREADS ITS UNTIDY FLOOD FOR HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS OF MILES
under the weeds: four inches of grey road metal, imported, for all this country is chalk and clay; two inches of flint below it, and under that an inch of a bright red stone. We are looking then at a road--a road through a village trodden by men and women, and the hooves of horses and familiar modern things, a road so buried, so shattered, so overgrown, showing by chance an edge in the midst of the wilderness, that I could seem rather to have discovered the track of the Dinosaur in prehistoric clays than the highway, of a little village that only five years ago was full of human faults and joys and songs and tiny tears. Down that road before the plans, of the Kaiser began to fumble with the earth, down that road--but it is useless to look back, we are too far away from five years ago, too far away from thousands of ordinary things, that never seemed as though they would ever peer at us over chasms of time, out of another age, utterly far off, irrevocably removed from our ways and days.  IN THREE CLEAR LAYERS UNDER THE WEEDS FOUR INCHES OF GREY ROAD METAL IMPORTED FOR ALL THIS COUNTRY IS CHALK AND CLAY TWO INCHES OF FLINT BELOW IT AND UNDER THAT AN INCH OF BRIGHT RED STONE WE ARE LOOKING THEN AT A ROAD A ROAD THROUGH A VILLAGE TRODDEN BY MEN AND WOMEN AND THE HOOFS OF HORSES AND FAMILIAR MODERN THINGS A ROAD BURIED SO DEEP SO SHATTERED SO OVERGROWN SHOWING BY CHANCE AN EDGE IN THE MIDST OF THE WILDERNESS THAT I COULD SEEM RATHER TO HAVE DISCOVERED THE TRACK OF THE DINOSAUR IN PREHISTORIC CLAYS THAN THE HIGHWAY OF A LITTLE VILLAGE THAT ONLY FIVE YEARS AGO WAS FULL OF HUMAN FAULTS AND JOYS AND SONGS AND TINY TEARS DOWN THAT ROAD BEFORE THE PLANS OF THE KAISER BEGAN TO FUMBLE WITH THE EARTH DOWN THAT ROAD BUT IT IS USELESS TO LOOK BACK WE ARE TOO FAR AWAY FROM FIVE YEARS AGO TOO FAR AWAY FROM THOUSANDS OF ORDINARY THINGS THAT NEVER SEEMED AS THOUGH THEY WOULD EVER PEER AT US OVER CHASMS OF TIME OUT OF ANOTHER AGE UTTERLY FAR OFF IRREVOCABLY REMOVED FROM OUR WAYS AND DAYS
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