Wanderers in Trakhin.1

Wanderers in Trakhin.
I rise on an ancient ladder. Through mighty plates from which steps are put, the weeds make the way. The heavy, dense matter of my attire not of easily soiled color, is several times wrapped up round my body, and the back end as a tail lasts after me, creeping from a step on a step. On the head heavy high "tiara", because of it it is necessary to hold the head exactly, highly lifted. The neck is strained. Naked hands slightly slide on a handrail, on the right side from a ladder. At the left the wall towers. Habitually and quickly I rise on three flights of stairs, 40 steps in the first flight, 16 – in the second, 20 – in the third. Having walked upstairs and having turned, I appear on the pure paved platform terminating from all directions in a small border. Even under bare feet doesn't meet neither an excess stone, nor a grain of sand. They say that this pedestal and a ladder was built by gods. In the middle the boulder – a sacred place towers pure, polished to a whiteness. Having pulled out the bell hidden between saddle places from a corner I listen to its ring. From below the city of azul is located. Low dwellings create below uniform weight from flat roofs. Today there will be a ceremony, it is necessary to know how the sound will extend. Under a bell ring, I look for the most successful place. Well, that's all. It is time to change clothes. The sun already sits down, its light on the horizon patches of light waves on water.
Having gone down, I go on a garden of fruit-trees. Through the garden, for some reason azulam called "magic "run lost in a grass and trees of a footpath. There is no road which would conduct to a ladder and a pedestal. The local priest, approaches me, stretches a local fruit. It is an oblong fruit in two male hands, yellow, wax. How many times, the husband spoke to me: "you don't eat unfamiliar". They this fruit call whether a tsukam, whether a tsukum. I gesture reject the offer. The priest without having understood, quickly puts a wooden ladder to a tree, hasty climbs up on it so his naked feet flash at me before eyes. The priest is very much distinguished from azul, he high, with a black curly hair, uncombed and slovenly, as well as his beard. Having gone down, he stretched me a fruit from the top. In his blue, deeply put eyes wild animal instincts hide. Such happens at people whom gods left. His mighty torso is rolled up by a piece of rough fabric, hiding a body from armpits until the end of buttocks. It looks wildly and ridiculously, as if a body of the person in a cocoon of a butterfly. I refuse a fruit. The priest pushes it entirely to himself in a mouth, so, that juice and small sunflower seeds are sprayed on his beard.  
- Samani metal ale sir Tita, Karan da vaca! – verses I speak to it, continuing to go on temple lands. Grows dark.
By acacias, the uveshennykh siliculose fruits, I pass to the house which is taken away for housing, our with the husband. Azula worship to god a bird, the husband they consider it the carrier – Gaty. Me they called Tamit – a snake, the assistant and god's wife. The house small, rectangular, with a profound earth floor. Behind a big bed, in its headboard, I get a small chest. A suspension bracket, with turquoise from which garlands of bells, in the middle of an ellipsoidal agate beads which I put on on a neck hang down. Bells have to, on beliefs to drive away evil forces. A small mirror, having cleaned dirt a dress hem, I pushed under hair, behind, what at hit on it of light, the shine was created. The last, I put on the ring made like a suspension bracket so openwork, with the stones and bells which are sticking out in different directions. In such ring it is impossible to do anything, either you will spoil ornament, or work. Now I pass into the part of the house which is taken away under kitchen where the food where it is possible to eat is stored. The center in our house the portable.
Night. We on a platform. On a boulder fire is made. I stand at the side, with the hands extended to azula.
- Autuma!!! – it is carried in the ringing silence of night. My person krasheno in white color. Nearby, having put me the hand on a shoulder, there is my husband. Verses flow from me, I don't know from where. I speak, I speak.
Ease, scope is felt. Everything is so good and fine around, force going from a wind, fills with a stream me. Stars, are showered with small drops on the earth. Freedom and flight fills me, … Perhaps, once I was a bird, an albatross, a seagull, also stood on the edge of a chasm between mountains, at any time ready to spread wings and to break to clouds.  
Hand on a shoulder, in an ancient ring - the last my communication with the world live. As well as my jewelry, ring on a hand of the husband belongs to priests of azul. All this old, left to them gods. It is difficult to sort that is applied on the husband's signet, but pebbles surrounding it almost all fell out. At an opposite wall of a platform of Varg, too with the wife. We four together, by two boats consulted on headwater, without having passed a neck, we don't know as, got to azula. It is absolutely wild people. We the clothes, even hid, men in leaves, we, women came to them, having tied with rags … The benefit that we with the husband are similar to their gods. And that azula could us and sacrifice, and live to the earth to dig. Варг with the wife not from yol, they here our servants are considered. We aren't priests, from ceremonies and rituals, we know only the wedding. On it is mute and decided to be based. Варг, killing the victim, as always, releases jokes. Because of it, even the finger cut. The local priest suspiciously askances at him. Варг always I was desperate, without paying attention to the clever and warning councils, I did and I said everything that considered it necessary.
I stopped prophesying, and the husband brought me to the chair put by Varg at the burning fire. Варг threw me with warm fabric that I would quicker be warmed after a trance, and gave in hands a high vessel, with something hot. Meanwhile the husband, by means of the wife Varga, fixed swan wings on a back. On the head to it set up a felt cap with the missyury. On his back wings seemed not so big, it had them to the middle of an elbow. Having wrinkled the nose which is brought down sideways, and having winked, the husband got on a side. Short boots up to calves emphasized symmetry of his feet, as well as a short striped short skirt. Quickly something, pro-crowds, it returned to us. Its lightness won't bring to good.
Варг gives us a bowl with just lowered blood. I prigublivat it. Варг obsidianovy, flat, extended knifes to me a hand. My blood flows down in a bowl, there mixes up with blood of the victim. The bowl is prigublivat by the husband. He cuts the hand. Its blood too mixes up in a bowl with sacrificial and my. The husband gives Vargu's bowl. We connect the blood-stained hands to the husband that our blood would mix up. Tomorrow we should go to the island, what to hear will of god of azul – Big-eared, and to bring to his people his word. If we don't make it, we are waited by death, azula will understand that we aren't gods, and even not their children. Having picked up my powerless body, the husband incurred down. Варг, going with us nearby, all the time I cracked the jokes, sucking the blood-stained finger.