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- Джек Лондон
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Yes
,
and
who
was
Kashyapa
,
who
was
Pururavas
,
but
our
lame
master-smith
,
our
iron-worker
,
carried
by
us
in
our
drifts
and
re-named
and
worshipped
by
the
south-dwellers
and
the
east-dwellers
,
the
Sons
of
the
Pole
and
of
the
Fire
Drill
and
Fire
Socket
.
But
the
tale
is
too
long
,
though
I
should
like
to
tell
of
the
three-leaved
Herb
of
Life
by
which
Sigmund
made
Sinfioti
alive
again
.
For
this
is
the
very
soma-plant
of
India
,
the
holy
grail
of
King
Arthur
,
the
--
but
enough
!
enough
!
And
yet
,
as
I
calmly
consider
it
all
,
I
conclude
that
the
greatest
thing
in
life
,
in
all
lives
,
to
me
and
to
all
men
,
has
been
woman
,
is
woman
,
and
will
be
woman
so
long
as
the
stars
drift
in
the
sky
and
the
heavens
flux
eternal
change
.
Greater
than
our
toil
and
endeavour
,
the
play
of
invention
and
fancy
,
battle
and
star-gazing
and
mystery
--
greatest
of
all
has
been
woman
.
Even
though
she
has
sung
false
music
to
me
,
and
kept
my
feet
solid
on
the
ground
,
and
drawn
my
star-roving
eyes
ever
back
to
gaze
upon
her
,
she
,
the
conserver
of
life
,
the
earth-mother
,
has
given
me
my
great
days
and
nights
and
fulness
of
years
.
Even
mystery
have
I
imaged
in
the
form
of
her
,
and
in
my
star-charting
have
I
placed
her
figure
in
the
sky
.
All
my
toils
and
devices
led
to
her
;
all
my
far
visions
saw
her
at
the
end
.
When
I
made
the
fire-drill
and
fire-socket
,
it
was
for
her
.
It
was
for
her
,
although
I
did
not
know
it
,
that
I
put
the
stake
in
the
pit
for
old
Sabre-Tooth
,
tamed
the
horse
,
slew
the
mammoth
,
and
herded
my
reindeer
south
in
advance
of
the
ice-sheet
.
For
her
I
harvested
the
wild
rice
,
tamed
the
barley
,
the
wheat
,
and
the
corn
.
For
her
,
and
the
seed
to
come
after
whose
image
she
bore
,
I
have
died
in
tree-tops
and
stood
long
sieges
in
cave-mouths
and
on
mud-walls
.
For
her
I
put
the
twelve
signs
in
the
sky
.
It
was
she
I
worshipped
when
I
bowed
before
the
ten
stones
of
jade
and
adored
them
as
the
moons
of
gestation
.
Always
has
woman
crouched
close
to
earth
like
a
partridge
hen
mothering
her
young
;
always
has
my
wantonness
of
roving
led
me
out
on
the
shining
ways
;
and
always
have
my
star-paths
returned
me
to
her
,
the
figure
everlasting
,
the
woman
,
the
one
woman
,
for
whose
arms
I
had
such
need
that
clasped
in
them
I
have
forgotten
the
stars
.
For
her
I
accomplished
Odysseys
,
scaled
mountains
,
crossed
deserts
;
for
her
I
led
the
hunt
and
was
forward
in
battle
;
and
for
her
and
to
her
I
sang
my
songs
of
the
things
I
had
done
.
All
ecstasies
of
life
and
rhapsodies
of
delight
have
been
mine
because
of
her
.
And
here
,
at
the
end
,
I
can
say
that
I
have
known
no
sweeter
,
deeper
madness
of
being
than
to
drown
in
the
fragrant
glory
and
forgetfulness
of
her
hair
.
