Before the Irzal

The Heart's Talk

... The heart turned to look, the moment the road brought us out in view of the irzal; and behold, what I had supposed had become a crumbling ruin stands like the everlasting pyramid in its stubborn steadfastness and its mockery of time...

I took in “the overlook” with one quick glance — everything remains as it was...
As if the whole stretch of pines were inhabited by the Teacher's spirit...

*

From the balcony of the irzal his singular head looks out at me — with the radiant laugh, with the fiery eyes, and the knotted brows even in hours of cheer and gladness!!
There I surprised him one mid-morning, his back propped against a pine, teasing with his lips a sun-browned cluster of grapes until he had finished it off...

In the valley behind that slope, his Russian and German singing had, every morning, the echo of a full choir...

On this spot, how often he sat upon the ground in circles of his students or his inquiring visitors, the hours stretching on with them, hour after hour...

Here the peasants and the people of the neighborhood knew him as a genial, friendly, playful companion, trading jest for jest, so as to take hold of the reins of their trust, and to create out of their simplicities heroisms and manhoods beyond assault...

*

How wonderful they are, these pictures... coming back to my mind alive and leaping... while I stand there in my deep meditations, my eye nailed to the irzal... What place will it hold in history?!