The White Ship
-Ur Dagon and other macabre tales av HPL-
Out of that crash came darkness, and I heard the shrieking of men and of things wich were not men. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and chilled me as I crouched on the slab of damp stone wich had risen beneath my feet. Then as I heard another crash I opened my eyes and beheld myself upon the platform of that lighthouse whence I had sailed so many aeons ago. In the darkness below there loomed the vast blurred outlines of a vessel breaking up on the cruel rocks, and as I glanced out over the waste I saw that the light had failed for the first time since my grandfather had assumed its care.
And in the later watches of the night, when I went within the tower, I saw on on the wall a calender wich still remained as when I had left it at the hour I sailed away. With the dawn I descended the tower and looked for wreckage upon the rocks, but what I found was only this: a strange dead bird whose hue was as of the azure sky, and a single shattered spar, of a whiteness greater than that of the wave-tips or of the mountain snow.
And thereafter the ocean told me its secrets no more; and though many times since has the moon shone full and high in the heavens, the White Ship from the South came never again.
Vad är detta? läser du gamle hpl? Trodde du var sådär lagom förtjust i honom. Fast du gillar en del som han skrivit har jag förstått.
Jag har väl själv tröttnat lite på honom sedan länge, men det kommer ju fina nyöversättningar hela tiden nu verkar det som så jag får lust att läsa lite igen. En del har jag inte läst i någon form heller tidigare, som Vansinnets berg.