As I’d do when bathing the children when they were babies; I cooed to him in
a singsong voice。 There were cuts on his chest and arms as well。 The fingers of
his left hand were purple from being bitten。 The rags I used to wipe his body
were soon bloodsoaked。 I touched his chest; I felt the softness of his abdomen
with my hand; I looked at his cock for a long time。 The sounds of the children
were ing from the courtyard below。 Why did some poets call this thing a
“reed pen”?
439
I could hear Esther enter the kitchen with that joyous voice and mysterious
air she adopted when she brought news; and I went down to greet her。
She was so excited she began without embracing or kissing me: Olive’s
severed head was found in front of the workshop; the pictures proving his guilt
in the crimes and his satchel had also been recovered。 He was intending to flee
to Hindustan; but had decided first to call at the workshop one last time。
There were witnesses to the ordeal: Hasan; encountering Olive; had drawn
his red sword and cut off Olive’s head in a single stroke。
As she recounted; I thought about where my unfortunate father was。
Learning that the murderer had received his due punishment at first put my
fears to rest。 And revenge lent me a feeling of fort and justice。 At that
instant; I wondered intensely whether my now…dead father could experience
this feeling; suddenly; it seemed to me that the entire world was like a palace
with countless rooms whose doors opened into one another。 We were able to
pass from one room to the next only by exercising our memories and
imaginations; but most of us; in our laziness; rarely exercised these capacities;
and forever remained in the same room。
“Don’t cry; my dear;” said Esther。 “You see; in the end everything has
turned out fine。”
I gave her four gold coins。 She took them; one at a time; into her mouth
and bit down upon them crudely with eagerness and longin