large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb_33
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb
English
9571
Let us give thanks to Satan," there is a bridge of yellow brick, and through it, as through some gate of filigree silver opening on fairyland, one passes into the country. To left and right, as far as one can see, stretches that monstrous city; before one are the fields like an old, old song. There is a field there that is full of king cups. LET US GIVE THANKS TO SATAN THERE IS A BRIDGE OF YELLOW BRICK AND THROUGH IT AS THROUGH SOME GATE OF FILIGREE SILVER OPENING ON FAIRYLAND ONE PASSES INTO THE COUNTRY TO LEFT AND RIGHT AS FAR AS ONE CAN SEE STRETCHES THAT MONSTROUS CITY BEFORE ONE ARE THE FIELDS LIKE AN OLD OLD SONG THERE IS A FIELD THERE THAT IS FULL OF KIN CUPS
u go by train you miss the gradual approach, you do not cast off London like an old forgiven sin, nor pass by little villages on the way that must have some rumour of the hills; nor, wondering if they are still the same, come at last upon the edge of their far-spread robes, and so on to their feet, and see far off their holy, welcoming faces. In the train you see them suddenly round a curve, and there they all are sitting in the sun. I imagine that as one penetrated out from some enormous forest of the tropics, the wild beasts would become fewer, the gloom would lighten, and the horror of the place would slowly lift. Yet as one emerges nearer to the edge of London, and nearer to the beautiful influence of the hills, the houses become uglier, the streets viler, the gloom deepens, the errors of civilisation stand bare to the scorn of the fields. Where ugliness reaches the height of its luxuriance, in the dense misery of the place, where one imagines the builder saying, "Here I culminate. RIDING A BICYCLE IF YOU GO BY TRAIN YOU MISS THE GRADUAL APPROACH YOU DO NOT CAST OFF LONDON LIKE AN OLD FORGIVEN SIN NOR PASS BY LITTLE VILLAGES ON THE WAY THAT MUST HAVE SOME RUMOR OF THE HILLS NOR WONDERING IF THEY ARE STILL THE SAME COME AT LAST UPON THE EDGE OF THEIR FAR SPREAD ROBES AND SO ON TO THEIR FEET AND SEE FAR OFF THEIR WHOLLY WELCOMING FACES IN THE TRAIN YOU SEE THEM SUDDENLY ROUND A CURVE AND THERE THEY ALL ARE SITTING IN THE SUN I IMAGINE THAT AS ONE PENETRATED OUT FROM SOME ENORMOUS FOREST OF THE TROPICS THE WILD BEASTS WOULD BECOME FEWER THE GLOOM WOULD LIGHTEN AND THE HORROR OF THE PLACE WOULD SLOWLY LIFT YET AS ONE EMERGES NEARER TO THE EDGE OF LO LONDON AND NEARER TO THE BEAUTIFUL INFLUENCE OF THE HILLS THE HOUSES BECOME UGLIER THE STREETS VILER THE GLOOM DEEPENS THE ERRORS OF CIVILIZATION STAND BARE TO THE SCORN OF THE FIELDS WHERE UGLINESS REACHES THE HEIGHT OF ITS LUXURIANCE IN THE DENSE MISERY OF THE PLACE WHERE ONE IMAGINES THE BUILDER SAYING HERE I CULMINATE
large/9571/a_dreamers_tales_dm_1501_librivox_64kb_mp3/dreamerstales_14_dunsany_64kb
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