Читать книгу The Plumed Serpent. Historical Novel - Life and Love after the Mexico Revolution онлайн
138 страница из 172
Charmless America! With your hard, vindictive beauty, are you waiting forever to smite death? Is the world your everlasting victim?
So long as it will let itself be victimized.
But yet! But yet! The gentle voices of the natives. The voice of the boys, like birds twittering among the trees of the plaza of Tehuacan! The soft touch, the gentleness. Was it the dark-fingered quietness of death, and the music of the presence of death in their voices?
She thought again of what Don Ramón had said to her.
‘They pull you down! Mexico pulls you down, the people pull you down like a great weight! But it may be they pull you down as the earth’s pull of gravitation does, that you can balance on your feet. Maybe they draw you down as the earth draws down the roots of a tree, so that it may be clinched deep in soil. Men are still part of the Tree of Life, and the roots go down to the centre of the earth. Loose leaves, and aeroplanes, blow away on the wind, in what they call freedom. But the Tree of Life has fixed, deep, gripping roots.