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( 54 )
so still In the dark of my womb ? is its little
life done, to fulfil Some mood of your firmament, some dark
demand of your Will ? If that be 'so, say ! do you create to destroy ? Are you nourished from moment to moment
on human grief ? Does it lend you high satisfaction to
fracture our joy, Fragment us without any ruth?
Does it bring you relief ? ( the resonance of the tanpuras stops... Dead silence follows )
DEEP VOICE (of the Ancient Interpreter) The infant's thoughts begin to speak again : Listen!
c
!
( the flute starts its music ---soft and almost in-audible, but heart-haunting in the extreme )
The delicate Bearer of me-my Beautiful Mother-has totally misunderstood my intention of sparing her the least small
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