Short Fiction Leonid Andreyev (best books to read .txt) 📖

the flowers of the night. When the curves of my body sweep the air, it retains their windings⁠—the tissue of a most delicate web, the interlacing of the charms of sleep, the fascination of noiseless motion, the soundless whistling of gliding lines. Silent, I sway from side to side; I look and I sway; ah, what a burden I carry on my neck!

I love you.

I have always been a charming creature, and tender was my love. Move closer. Do you see my beautiful little teeth, so white and so sharp? I bit, when I kissed! Oh, no! not painfully; no! gently. Tenderly caressing, I bit so lightly that but the first light drops appeared, and the cries resembled laughter when one is tickled. And this caress of mine was very pleasant; else those whom I kissed would not have come for more caresses. And now I can kiss but once, ah, how sad! But once. One kiss for each⁠ ⁠… it is so little for the loving heart, the feeling soul that seeks to blend with other souls in love! But it is only I, the sad one, that can kiss but once and then again must seek another love. He whom I kiss can know no other love; for him inviolable and eternal is this my only kiss, my wedding kiss so tender. I speak to you so trustfully and when my tale is done⁠ ⁠… I shall kiss you.

I love you.

Look into my eyes. Look, what a magnificent, majestic gaze I have, so firm, so open, piercing as cold steel pressed to one’s heart. I gaze and I sway here; I gaze and I charm you; in my green eyes I gather your fear, your love’s obedient and weary longing. Move closer. It is I who am a queen now, and you dare not gaze upon my beauty. And yet there was a time; such a peculiar time! The mere recollection of it makes me shudder! I was not loved. I was not honored. With cruel ferocity I was hunted down, scorned, and trampled into dust. What a peculiar time!

Alone in the multitude! Alone in the multitude!

I say to you, Move closer!

Why did they not love me?

For even then I was a charming creature, so kind, so gentle. And how I danced! But they tormented me, with fire they burned me. The coarse and heavy beasts trampled me down with the large hoofs of their madly-beating feet; the cold tusks of their bloody mouths tore my tender body. And I gnawed the sand in the impotence of my anguish, swallowed the dust of the earth, and died in despair. Every day I died, trampled into dust. Every day I died in despair. Ah, what a horrid time! The stupid forest has forgotten all this, but won’t you pity me! Move closer. Have pity on me, the long sufferer, so sad, so loving, so beautiful in the dance.

I love you.

How could I defend myself? I had but my beautiful, little, sharp, white teeth, fit only for kissing. How could I defend myself? It is only now that I carry this awful burden of a heavy head upon my neck, it is only now that my gaze is piercing and commanding. At that time my head was light, and my eyes were gentle. I had no poison then. Ah, heavy is my head, and it is so hard for me to hold it up! Ah, I am so tired of my own gaze. There are two stones set into my forehead, two stones for my eyes. Let them be precious jewels, those sparkling stones of mine, but it is so hard to carry them instead of gentle eyes; they press my brain⁠ ⁠… ah, heavy is my head! I look and I sway, and you appear to be in a greenish haze, so far away. Move closer.

Do you see? Even in sadness I am beautiful, and my gaze is languid with love. Look into the pupil of my eye: see, now I expand it, and now I contract it. I can make it twinkle with the peculiar glitter of the night star, I can make it sparkle with the wonderful play of every jewel, the brilliant diamond, the green emerald, the yellow topaz, the bloody ruby. Look into my eyes: a queen, I place a crown upon my head. That which is burning, glittering and sparkling in my eyes, which robs you of your senses, your will, your life, that is my poison, the little drops of my poison.

How did it happen? I know not. I never wished the living evil.

I lived and I suffered. Silent, I concealed myself. Hurriedly I crawled away, when escape was possible. But no one saw me weep, for I cannot weep. Only my quiet dance became more rapid, more beautiful. Alone in the stillness of the desert, alone with the grief in my heart, I danced on. They hated my rapid dance and would have gladly killed me, as I danced there. And then, suddenly, my head began to grow heavy. It was still the same little, beautiful, wise head, and yet it had become dreadfully heavy; it lowered my neck to the earth and hurt me. Now I am used to it, but at that time I was very uncomfortable. I thought that I was ill.

And suddenly⁠ ⁠… Move closer. Look into my eyes. Hush, hush, hush.

And suddenly my gaze grew heavy, stern, and piercing. I was even frightened. Sometimes I want to look at something and turn my gaze away⁠—but no. My gaze is straight, direct; it pierces further, further, as though I were becoming petrified. Look into my eyes. It seems as though I have become petrified and everything I look on turns to stone. Look into my eyes.

I love you. Do not laugh at my confiding story, or you will anger me. So every hour I open wide, confidingly, my heart, and yet I am alone. A ringing anguish fills my last embrace and