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egypt-第32部分

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the sacred islets。 The sanctuary of Isiswhich was enthroned for

thousands of years on the summit of a hill; crowded with temples and

colonnades and statuesstill half emerges; but it is alone and will

soon go the way of the others; There it is; beyond; like a great rock;

at this hour in which the night begins to obscure everything。



Nowhere but in Upper Egypt have the winter nights these transparencies

of absolute emptiness nor these sinister colourings。 As the light

gradually fails; the sky passes from copper to bronze; but remains

always metallic。 The zenith becomes brownish like a brazen shield;

while the setting sun alone retains its yellow colour; growing slowly

paler till it is almost of the whiteness of latten; and; above; the

mountains of the desert edge their sharp outlines with a tint of burnt

sienna。 To…night a freezing wind blows fiercely in our faces。 To the

continual chant of the rowers we pass slowly over the artificial lake;

which is upheld as it were in the air by the English masonry;

invisible now in the distance; but divined nevertheless and revolting。

A sacrilegious lake one might call it; since it hides beneath its

troubled waters ruins beyond all price; temples of the gods of Egypt;

churches of the first centuries of Christianity; obelisks;

inscriptions and emblems。 It is over these things that we now pass;

while the spray splashes in our faces; and the foam of a thousand

angry little billows。



We draw near to what was once the holy isle。 In places dying palm…

trees; whose long trunks are to…day under water; still show their

moistened plumes and give an appearance of inundation; almost of

cataclysm。



Before coming to the sanctuary of Isis; we touch at the kiosk of

Philae; which has been reproduced in the pictures of every age; and is

as celebrated even as the Sphinx and the pyramids。 It used to stand on

a pedestal of high rocks; and around it the date…trees swayed their

bouquets of aerial palms。 To…day it has no longer a base; its columns

rise separately from this kind of suspended lake。 It looks as if it

had been constructed in the water for the purpose of some royal

naumachy。 We enter with our boata strange port indeed; in its

ancient grandeur; a port of a nameless melancholy; particularly at

this yellow hour of the closing twilight; and under these icy winds

that come to us mercilessly from the neighbouring deserts。 And yet how

adorable it is; this kiosk of Philae; in this the abandonment that

precedes its downfall! Its columns placed; as it were; upon something

unstable; become thereby more slender; seem to raise higher still the

stone foliage of their capitals。 A veritable kiosk of dreamland now;

which one feels is about to disappear for ever under these waters

which will subside no more!



And now; for another few moments; it grows quite light again; and

tints of a warmer copper reappear in the sky。 Often in Egypt when the

sun has set and you think the light is gone; this furtive recoloration

of the air comes thus to surprise you; before the darkness finally

descends。 The reddish tints seem to return to the slender shafts that

surround us; and also; beyond; to the temple of the goddess; standing

there like a sheer rock in the middle of this little sea; which the

wind covers with foam。



On leaving the kiosk our boaton this deep usurping water; among the

submerged palm…treesmakes a detour in order to lead us to the temple

by the road which the pilgrims of olden times used to travel on foot

by that way which; a little while ago; was still magnificent; bordered

with colonnades and statues。 But now the road is entirely submerged;

and will never be seen again。 Between its double row of columns the

water lifts us to the height of the capitals; which alone emerge and

which we could touch with our hands。 It seems like some journey of the

end of time; in a kind of deserted Venice; which is about to topple

over; to sink and be forgotten。



We arrive at the temple。 Above our heads rise the enormous pylons;

ornamented with figures in bas…relief: an Isis who stretches out her

arms as if she were making signs to us; and numerous other divinities

gesticulating mysteriously。 The door which opens in the thickness of

these walls is low; besides being half flooded; and gives on to depths

already in darkness。 We row on and enter the sanctuary; and as soon as

one boat has crossed the sacred threshold the boatmen stop their song

and suddenly give voice to the new cry that has been taught them for

the benefit of the tourists: 〃Hip! Hip! Hip! Hurrah!〃 Coming at this

moment; when; with heart oppressed by all the utilitarian vandalism

that surrounds us; we were entering the sanctuary; what an effect of

gross and imbecile profanation this bellowing of English joy produces!

The boatmen know; moreover; that they have been displaced; that their

day has gone for ever; perhaps even; in the depths of their Nubian

souls; they understand us; for all that we have imposed silence on

them。 The darkness increases within; although the place is open to the

sky; and the icy wind blows more mournfully than it did outside。 A

penetrating humiditya humidity altogether unknown in this country

before the inundationchills us to the bone。 We are now in that part

of the temple which was left uncovered; the part where the faithful

used to kneel。 The sonority of the granites round about exaggerates

the noise of the oars on the enclosed water; and there is something

confusing in the thought that we are rowing and floating between the

walls where formerly; and for centuries; men were used to prostrate

themselves with their foreheads on the stones。



And now it is quite dark; the hour grows late。 We have to bring the

boat close to the walls to distinguish the hieroglyphs and rigid gods

which are engraved there as finely as by the burin。 These walls;

washed for nearly four years by the inundation; have already taken on

at the base that sad blackish colour which may be seen on the old

Venetian palaces。



Halt and silence。 It is dark and cold。 The oars no longer move; and we

hear only the sighing of the wind and the lapping of the water against

the columns and the bas…reliefsand then suddenly there comes the

noise of a heavy body falling; followed by endless eddies。 A great

carved stone has plunged; at its due hour; to rejoin in the black

chaos below its fellows that have already disappeared; to rejoin the

submerged temples and old Coptic churches; and the town of the first

Christian centuriesall that was once the Isle of Philae; the 〃pearl

of Egypt;〃 one of the marvels of the world。



The darkness is now extreme and we can see no longer。 Let us go and

shelter; no matter where; to await the moon。 At the end of this

uncovered hall there opens a door which gives on to deep night。 It is

the holy of holies; heavily roofed with granite; the highest part of

the temple; the only part which the waters have not yet reached; and

there we are able to put foot to earth。 Our footsteps resound noisily

on the large resonant flags; and the owls take to flight。 Profound

darkness; the wind and the dampness freeze us。 Three hours to go

before the rising of the moon; to wait in this place would be our

death。 Rather let us return to Chelal; and shelter ourselves in any

lodging that offers; however wretched it may be。



*****



A tavern of the horrible village in the light of an electric lamp。 It

reeks of absinthe; this desert tavern; in which we warm ourselves at a

little smoking fire。 It has been hastily built of old tin boxes; of

the debris of whisky cases; and by way of mural decoration the

landlord; an ignorant Maltese; has pasted everywhere pictures cut from

our European pornographic newspapers。 During our hours of waiting;

Nubians and Arabians follow one another hither; asking for drink; and

are supplied with brimming glassfuls of our alcoholic beverages。 They

are the workers in the new factories who were formerly healthy beings;

living in the open air。 But now their faces are stained with coal

dust; and their haggard eyes look unhappy and ill。



*****



The rising of the moon is fortunately at hand。 Once more in our boat

we make our way slowly towards the sad rock which to…day is Philae。

The wind has fallen with the night; as happens almost invariably in

this country in winter; and the lake is calm。 To the mournful yellow

sky has succeeded one that is blue…black; infinitely distant; where

the stars of Egypt scintillate in myriads。



A great glimmering light shows now in the east and at length the full

moon rises; not blood…coloured as in our climates but straightway very

luminous; and surrounded by an aureole of a kind of mist; caused by

the eternal dust of the sands。 And when we return to the baseless

kiosklulled always by the Nubian song of the boatmena great disc

is already illuminating everything with a gentle splendour。 As our

little boat winds in and out; we see the great ruddy disc passing and

repassing between the high columns; so striking in their archaism;

whose images are repeated in the water; that is now grown calmmore

than ever a kiosk of dreamland; a kiosk of old…world magic。



In returning to the temple of the goddess; we follow for a second time

the submerged road between the capitals and friezes of the colonnade

which emerge like a row of little reefs。



In the uncovered hall which forms the entrance to the temple; it is

still dark between the sovereign granites。 Let us moor our boat

against one of the walls and await the good pleasure of the moon。 As

soon as she shall have risen high enough to cast her light here; we

shall see clearly。



It begins by a rosy glimmer on the summit of the pylons; and then

takes the form of a luminous triangle; very clearly defined; which

grows gradually larger on the immense wall。 Little by little it

descends towards the base of the temple; revealing to
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