Good is the wine that is in love with us,
and good is bread, our generous friend;
and good the woman who brings us torment
yet yields her sweetness to us in the end.
But what are we to do with sunset fires?
With joys that can’t be eaten, drunk or kissed?
And what are we to do with deathless verse?
We stand and watch — as mysteries slip past.
Just as some boy too young to know of love
will leave his play to gaze, his heart on fire,
at maidens swimming in a lake, and gaze
and gaze, tormented by obscure desire;
or as within the gloom of ancient jungle
some earthbound beast once slithered from its lair
with wing buds on its back, still tightly closed,
and let out cries of impotent despair;
so year on year — how long, Lord, must we wait? —
beneath the surgeon’s knife of art and nature,
our flesh is wasted and our spirit howls
as one more sense moves slowly to creation.
Прекрасно в нас влюбленное вино
И добрый хлеб, что в печь для нас садится,
И женщина, которою дано,
Сперва измучившись, нам насладиться.
Но что нам делать с розовой зарей
Над холодеющими небесами,
Где тишина и неземной покой,
Что делать нам с бессмертными стихами?
Ни съесть, ни выпить, ни поцеловать.
Мгновение бежит неудержимо,
И мы ломаем руки, но опять
Осуждены идти всё мимо, мимо.
Как мальчик, игры позабыв свои,
Следит порой за девичьим купаньем
И, ничего не зная о любви,
Всё ж мучится таинственным желаньем;
Как некогда в разросшихся хвощах
Ревела от сознания бессилья
Тварь скользкая, почуя на плечах
Еще не появившиеся крылья;
Так, век за веком — скоро ли, Господь? —
Под скальпелем природы и искусства,
Кричит наш дух, изнемогает плоть,
Рождая орган для шестого чувства.
Elias looked from the glowing gem to the man he had trusted. He understood now that the "Lost Love" referred to in the legends wasn't just about a stone or a romance, but about the sacrifices made for one's country and principles. The guardian’s path was a lonely one, just as his father’s had been.
The air in the room felt heavy with the scent of old paper and rain-dampened earth. Elias stood before the massive oak desk, his hand trembling as he reached for the final piece of the puzzle—the letter his father had died trying to protect. For three long months, Elias had followed a trail of cryptic clues across Europe, each step bringing him closer to "The Lost Love," a legendary sapphire rumored to have vanished during the French Revolution. ThelostLove-EPISODE-3-FINAL-pc 2_[juegosXXXgrat...
In a swift motion, Elias closed the box and backed toward the balcony. "My father didn't die so this could be used as a political weapon," Elias declared. With a determined leap of faith, he disappeared into the curtain of rain, escaping into the night with the secret safe in his possession. The cycle of the guardians would continue, and the true power of the sapphire would remain a mystery to those who sought to exploit it. Elias was no longer just a son searching for answers; he was the new protector of the legacy. Elias looked from the glowing gem to the man he had trusted
Elias turned to see Julian, the mentor who had guided him since the beginning, standing in the shadows of the doorway. The realization hit Elias like a physical blow; the only person who knew enough to follow him this far was the man who had taught him everything. The air in the room felt heavy with
As Elias decoded the last cipher, a hidden compartment in the desk clicked open. Inside sat a small, velvet-lined box. When he opened it, the sapphire didn't just sparkle; it seemed to glow with an inner light, reflecting the stormy sky outside. But the victory felt hollow. Behind him, the door creaked. "I knew you'd find it," a familiar voice whispered.
In this final chapter of his journey, the pieces were finally falling into place. The letter wasn’t just a map; it was a confession. His father hadn’t been a thief—he had been a guardian. The sapphire wasn’t just a gemstone; it was a symbol of a forgotten peace treaty that could change the modern political landscape if revealed.
"The sapphire belongs to history, Elias," Julian said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. "It is too powerful to remain in private hands. Give it to me, and we can ensure it is placed where it can do the most good—or the most damage."