Deep Silence

I put off reading this for a long time. I did not know what it was, and I still do not entirely know. It was lying at the foot of the gate. It did not look like something anyone had dropped, and no one asked after it.

Five words run along the top edge: water, earth, fire, air, spirit. Below them, five stanzas. Counting them, I understood — each stanza falls under one word.

I pass it on as it is.

a green reed of the marsh i was
aimless and purposeless i was
the reed bed was my only home
neither song nor breath i was

from earth i came — what shall i do
to earth i go — what shall i do
the start is known the end is known
what shall i do with this world

a dry reed of the marsh i was
burning in the fierce fire i was
with seven embers i was pierced
seeing what i sought i was

they hollowed me out — let me moan
they kissed and laid me down — let me moan
its start is absence its end is void
each time hû is said i moan

the ney says hû the heart trembles hû
and trembling wipes away its rust
the ney turns silence the heart stillness
and stillness turns a mirror to light

I do not know who wrote it. It seems to be written in the mouth of a reed, but in the last stanza the reed disappears — what remains is the ney and the heart.

Translator’s note. In the original, the word “I” appears in only two of the five stanzas, both times in a complaint. English will not permit that; the pronoun is obligatory here. The loss is mine, not the parchment’s.

I should also say that I set this text to music myself. That sound is not Devran’s — it is the thing I added. There was no notation on the parchment, only these lines.