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We
stood
together
for
a
long
time
.
And
we
were
frightened
that
we
had
lived
for
twenty
-
one
years
and
had
never
known
what
joy
is
possible
to
men
.
Then
we
said
:
“
Our
dearest
one
.
Fear
nothing
of
the
forest
.
There
is
no
danger
in
solitude
.
We
have
no
need
of
our
brothers
.
Let
us
forget
their
good
and
our
evil
,
let
us
forget
all
things
save
that
we
are
together
and
that
there
is
joy
as
a
bond
between
us
.
Give
us
your
hand
.
Look
ahead
.
It
is
our
own
world
,
Golden
One
,
a
strange
,
unknown
world
,
but
our
own
.
”
Then
we
walked
on
into
the
forest
,
their
hand
in
ours
.
And
that
night
we
knew
that
to
hold
the
body
of
women
in
our
arms
is
neither
ugly
nor
shameful
,
but
the
one
ecstasy
granted
to
the
race
of
men
.
We
have
walked
for
many
days
.
The
forest
has
no
end
,
and
we
seek
no
end
.
But
each
day
added
to
the
chain
of
days
between
us
and
the
City
is
like
an
added
blessing
.
We
have
made
a
bow
and
many
arrows
.
We
can
kill
more
birds
than
we
need
for
our
food
;
we
find
water
and
fruit
in
the
forest
.
At
night
,
we
choose
a
clearing
,
and
we
build
a
ring
of
fires
around
it
.
We
sleep
in
the
midst
of
that
ring
,
and
the
beasts
dare
not
attack
us
.
We
can
see
their
eyes
,
green
and
yellow
as
coals
,
watching
us
from
the
tree
branches
beyond
.
The
fires
smoulder
as
a
crown
of
jewels
around
us
,
and
smoke
stands
still
in
the
air
,
in
columns
made
blue
by
the
moonlight
.
We
sleep
together
in
the
midst
of
the
ring
,
the
arms
of
the
Golden
One
around
us
,
their
head
upon
our
breast
.
Some
day
,
we
shall
stop
and
build
a
house
,
when
we
shall
have
gone
far
enough
.
But
we
do
not
have
to
hasten
.
The
days
before
us
are
without
end
,
like
the
forest
.
We
cannot
understand
this
new
life
which
we
have
found
,
yet
it
seems
so
clear
and
so
simple
.
When
questions
come
to
puzzle
us
,
we
walk
faster
,
then
turn
and
forget
all
things
as
we
watch
the
Golden
One
following
.
The
shadows
of
leaves
fall
upon
their
arms
,
as
they
spread
the
branches
apart
,
but
their
shoulders
are
in
the
sun
.
The
skin
of
their
arms
is
like
a
blue
mist
,
but
their
shoulders
are
white
and
glowing
,
as
if
the
light
fell
not
from
above
,
but
rose
from
under
their
skin
.
We
watch
the
leaf
which
has
fallen
upon
their
shoulder
,
and
it
lies
at
the
curve
of
their
neck
,
and
a
drop
of
dew
glistens
upon
it
like
a
jewel
.
They
approach
us
,
and
they
stop
,
laughing
,
knowing
what
we
think
,
and
they
wait
obediently
,
without
questions
,
till
it
pleases
us
to
turn
and
go
on
.
