The Crushed Flower and Other Stories by Leonid Nikolayevich Andreyev
page 44 of 360 (12%)
page 44 of 360 (12%)
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fell in love with myself. I am so fond of the beautiful and the
wise! And suddenly I saw--on my forehead, among my other inborn adornments, a new, strange sign--Was it not this sign that has brought the heaviness, the petrified look, and the sweet taste in my mouth? Here a cross is darkly outlined on my forehead--right here-- look. Come closer to me. Is this not strange? But I did not understand it at that time, and I liked it. Let there be no more adornment. And on the same day, on that same terrible day, when the cross appeared, my first kiss became also my last--my kiss became fatal. One in many! One in many! Oh! You love precious stones, but think, my beloved, how far more precious is a little drop of my poison. It is such a little drop.-- Have you ever seen it? Never, never. But you shall find it out. Consider, my beloved, how much suffering, painful humiliation, powerless rage devoured me: I had to experience in order to bring forth this little drop. I am a queen! I am a queen! In one drop, brought forth by myself, I carry death unto the living, and my kingdom is limitless, even as grief is limitless, even as death is limitless. I am queen! My look is inexorable. My dance is terrible! I am beautiful! One in many! One in many! Oh! Do not fall. My story is not yet ended. Come closer to me. And then I crawled into the stupid forest, into my green dominion. |
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