My sister was born, and soon my brother was born. After what time, I can't say for sure. The days of the gods are like a falling waterfall, and mortals can count them, but I didn't know that trick then. It would seem that there is no one but my father to teach us – after all, he knew every dawn. But even he called his brother and sister twins. They really had grown close since their brother was born, intertwined like little animals. The father blessed them both with one hand. "You," he said to my glowing sister Pasiphae, " will marry the eternal son of Zeus. The father spoke these words in the prophetic tone that he always used when talking about what was certain to happen. My mother beamed – already imagining how she would dress up for Zeus's feasts. "And you..." my father said to my brother, in his normal voice, clear and clear as a summer morning. "Every son reflects on his mother. The mother was delighted and took these words as permission to give her son a name. She named him Persians – after herself. The two of them were smart and knew what was going on right away. They liked to mock me with their ermine legs. Her eyes are yellow like urine. And the voice is squeaky, like an owl's. They call her Hawk, but she should be a Goat – because she's so ugly. These were their first barbs – blunt at first, but growing sharper by the day. I learned to avoid my sister and brother, and they soon found more fun among the little naiads and river gods from the Ocean Palace. When my mother went to visit her aunts, Persian and Pasiphae would follow her and order our pliable cousins around, and they would freeze in front of them like fry before a pike's mouth. Persian and Pasiphae came up with a lot of mocking games. Come here, Melia, they urged. On Olympus, it is now fashionable to cut your hair to the back of your head. If you don't let us do it – how do you get a husband? After the haircut, Melia, who looked like a hedgehog, roared, and the brother and sister laughed so hard that the caves echoed. Let them do what they want, I thought. She preferred the quiet halls of our palace and sat at my father's feet whenever she could. So one day, when he was going to visit his herd of sacred cows, he apparently called me as a reward. It was a great honor, for I was to ride in his golden chariot and see the envy of all the gods – the fifty snow-white heifers that delighted my father's eyes every day as he made his way over the earth. Leaning over the side of the chariot, which was decorated with precious stones,I marveled at the land rushing by below us – the rich green of forests, jagged mountains and the wide blue of the ocean. I searched with my mortal eyes, but I couldn't see them from this height. The herd grazed in the meadows of the island of Trinacria, and my two half-sisters looked after it. As soon as they saw us, they ran to my father and hung around his neck, cheering. All the children of Helios were born beautiful, but the sisters, whose skin and hair looked like liquid gold, were among the most beautiful. Their names were Lampetia and Faetusa. Shining and Glowing. "Who did you bring with you?" "She must be Perseid's daughter. Look at her eyes. – Of course! Lampetia (I think she is) patted me on the head. "Your eyes don't bother me, my dear. They don't bother you at all. Your mother is very beautiful, but weak. "I have eyes like yours," I said. "How lovely! No, my dear, our eyes are like fire, and our hair glistens like the sun on water. "And you're right to braid your own hair," Faetusa added. - In a braid, these dark strands look a little better. I wish you could hide your voice so easily. – She doesn't have to talk at all. That's the way out, isn't it, sister?" "Exit," they smiled. – Should we check on the cows?" I hadn't seen any cows before, but that didn't matter: the beauty of the heifers was so undeniable that there was no need to compare them. Snow-white, like the petals of lilies, wool, soft eyes, covered with long eyelashes. The cows ' horns were gilded (the sisters had done their best), and they bent their necks as gracefully as dancers as they nibbled at the grass. Their glossy flanks glistened softly in the sunset light. "Ugh! I exclaimed. – Can I touch it?" "No," my father said. "Do you want us to tell you their names?" This one is White-faced, this one is Bright-eyed, and that one is Cute. Here is a Beauty and a Charmer, Golden-Horned and Shiny. This is My Dear, and there… "Honey was already there," I said. "You said Honey was the one over there." I pointed to the first cow, munching peacefully on the grass. The two sisters looked at each other, then at their father in a single golden stare. But my father looked down on his magnificent flock, making no distinction. "You must have misunderstood," the sisters said. "The darling we just mentioned. And here's the Asterisk, here's the Flash, and… – What's that for a Charmer?" My father interrupted. "Sore?" The sisters were immediately alarmed: "Where's the sore?" Oh, it can't be! Oh, pretty, wretched girl, why did you hurt yourself? Oh, what the hell hurt you? I leaned over to examine Charmer's sore spot. It was tiny, smaller than the nail on my little finger, but my father frowned: – By tomorrow to fix everything. The sisters nodded their heads. Of course, of course. We are so guilty. We got back on the chariot, and my father took the silver-tipped reins. The sisters kissed his hands one last time, and then the horses soared into the sky, and we followed. The first constellations were already visible through the fading light. I remembered how my father had once told me that there were people on earth who were called astronomers, and their job was to watch when he rose and set. They are held in high esteem by mortals, live in palaces, and serve as the king's advisers, but sometimes my father is delayed for some reason and completely refutes all their calculations. Then the astronomers are dragged to the tsars, accused of quackery, and executed. My father said this with a smile. So, they say, it serves them right. Helios the Sun obeys no one but himself, and no one can predict what he will do. And now I asked: "Father, are we late enough to execute the astronomers?" "That's enough," my father said, shaking the jingling reins. The horses leapt forward, and the world blurred beneath us, the sea's edge steaming with night. I didn't look there. My chest felt like it was wrung out like laundry. I was thinking about astronomers. I imagined them as insignificant as worms, bent and bent. Have mercy, they begged on their skinny knees, it's not our fault, it's the sun that's late. The sun is never late, said the kings on their thrones. You blaspheme, and you will die! And the executioners ' axes cut those who begged for mercy in two. "Father," I said. – I don't feel comfortable." – You're hungry." The meal time is long overdue. Your sisters should be ashamed of having detained us. I'd had a good meal, but I didn't feel the same. I must have had a funny face, because the Persian and Pasiphae giggled on their couch. – Did you swallow a frog?" — no. They only laughed louder, rubbing their hands and feet in the folds of their clothes like snakes cleaning their scales. – How do you like your father's golden chicks?" My sister asked. - Beautiful. The Persian laughed again: "She doesn't know anything!" Have you ever seen such a fool? "Never," said the nurse. I didn't want to ask, but I was still caught up in my own thoughts, imagining the slashed bodies sprawled on the marble floor. – What don't I know?" Her sister's beautiful animal face. "That he copulates with them, of course. So new ones are born. He turns into a bull and begets new heifers with them, and the old ones are cooked for dinner. That's why everyone thinks they're immortal. "That's not true. They roared with laughter, pointing fingers at my flushed cheeks. The noise attracted my mother. She liked her sister and brother's jokes. "We told Circe about the cows," the Persian explained. Her mother's laughter turned to silver, like a spring running through rocks. "Silly Circe.

My sister was born, and soon my brother was born. After what time, I can't say for sure. The days of the gods are like a falling waterfall, and mortals can count them, but I didn't know that trick then. It would seem that there is no one but my father to teach us – after all, he knew every dawn. But even he called his brother and sister twins. They really had grown close since their brother was born, intertwined like little animals. The father blessed them both with one hand. "You," he said to my glowing sister Pasiphae, " will marry the eternal son of Zeus. The father spoke these words in the prophetic tone that he always used when talking about what was certain to happen. My mother beamed – already imagining how she would dress up for Zeus's feasts. "And you..." my father said to my brother, in his normal voice, clear and clear as a summer morning. "Every son reflects on his mother. The mother was delighted and took these words as permission to give her son a name. She named him Persians – after herself. The two of them were smart and knew what was going on right away. They liked to mock me with their ermine legs. Her eyes are yellow like urine. And the voice is squeaky, like an owl's. They call her Hawk, but she should be a Goat – because she's so ugly. These were their first barbs – blunt at first, but growing sharper by the day. I learned to avoid my sister and brother, and they soon found more fun among the little naiads and river gods from the Ocean Palace. When my mother went to visit her aunts, Persian and Pasiphae would follow her and order our pliable cousins around, and they would freeze in front of them like fry before a pike's mouth. Persian and Pasiphae came up with a lot of mocking games. Come here, Melia, they urged. On Olympus, it is now fashionable to cut your hair to the back of your head. If you don't let us do it – how do you get a husband? After the haircut, Melia, who looked like a hedgehog, roared, and the brother and sister laughed so hard that the caves echoed. Let them do what they want, I thought. She preferred the quiet halls of our palace and sat at my father's feet whenever she could. So one day, when he was going to visit his herd of sacred cows, he apparently called me as a reward. It was a great honor, for I was to ride in his golden chariot and see the envy of all the gods – the fifty snow-white heifers that delighted my father's eyes every day as he made his way over the earth. Leaning over the side of the chariot, which was decorated with precious stones,I marveled at the land rushing by below us – the rich green of forests, jagged mountains and the wide blue of the ocean. I searched with my mortal eyes, but I couldn't see them from this height. The herd grazed in the meadows of the island of Trinacria, and my two half-sisters looked after it. As soon as they saw us, they ran to my father and hung around his neck, cheering. All the children of Helios were born beautiful, but the sisters, whose skin and hair looked like liquid gold, were among the most beautiful. Their names were Lampetia and Faetusa. Shining and Glowing. "Who did you bring with you?" "She must be Perseid's daughter. Look at her eyes. – Of course! Lampetia (I think she is) patted me on the head. "Your eyes don't bother me, my dear. They don't bother you at all. Your mother is very beautiful, but weak. "I have eyes like yours," I said. "How lovely! No, my dear, our eyes are like fire, and our hair glistens like the sun on water. "And you're right to braid your own hair," Faetusa added. - In a braid, these dark strands look a little better. I wish you could hide your voice so easily. – She doesn't have to talk at all. That's the way out, isn't it, sister?" "Exit," they smiled. – Should we check on the cows?" I hadn't seen any cows before, but that didn't matter: the beauty of the heifers was so undeniable that there was no need to compare them. Snow-white, like the petals of lilies, wool, soft eyes, covered with long eyelashes. The cows ' horns were gilded (the sisters had done their best), and they bent their necks as gracefully as dancers as they nibbled at the grass. Their glossy flanks glistened softly in the sunset light. "Ugh! I exclaimed. – Can I touch it?" "No," my father said. "Do you want us to tell you their names?" This one is White-faced, this one is Bright-eyed, and that one is Cute. Here is a Beauty and a Charmer, Golden-Horned and Shiny. This is My Dear, and there… "Honey was already there," I said. "You said Honey was the one over there." I pointed to the first cow, munching peacefully on the grass. The two sisters looked at each other, then at their father in a single golden stare. But my father looked down on his magnificent flock, making no distinction. "You must have misunderstood," the sisters said. "The darling we just mentioned. And here's the Asterisk, here's the Flash, and… – What's that for a Charmer?" My father interrupted. "Sore?" The sisters were immediately alarmed: "Where's the sore?" Oh, it can't be! Oh, pretty, wretched girl, why did you hurt yourself? Oh, what the hell hurt you? I leaned over to examine Charmer's sore spot. It was tiny, smaller than the nail on my little finger, but my father frowned: – By tomorrow to fix everything. The sisters nodded their heads. Of course, of course. We are so guilty. We got back on the chariot, and my father took the silver-tipped reins. The sisters kissed his hands one last time, and then the horses soared into the sky, and we followed. The first constellations were already visible through the fading light. I remembered how my father had once told me that there were people on earth who were called astronomers, and their job was to watch when he rose and set. They are held in high esteem by mortals, live in palaces, and serve as the king's advisers, but sometimes my father is delayed for some reason and completely refutes all their calculations. Then the astronomers are dragged to the tsars, accused of quackery, and executed. My father said this with a smile. So, they say, it serves them right. Helios the Sun obeys no one but himself, and no one can predict what he will do. And now I asked: "Father, are we late enough to execute the astronomers?" "That's enough," my father said, shaking the jingling reins. The horses leapt forward, and the world blurred beneath us, the sea's edge steaming with night. I didn't look there. My chest felt like it was wrung out like laundry. I was thinking about astronomers. I imagined them as insignificant as worms, bent and bent. Have mercy, they begged on their skinny knees, it's not our fault, it's the sun that's late. The sun is never late, said the kings on their thrones. You blaspheme, and you will die! And the executioners ' axes cut those who begged for mercy in two. "Father," I said. – I don't feel comfortable." – You're hungry." The meal time is long overdue. Your sisters should be ashamed of having detained us. I'd had a good meal, but I didn't feel the same. I must have had a funny face, because the Persian and Pasiphae giggled on their couch. – Did you swallow a frog?" — no. They only laughed louder, rubbing their hands and feet in the folds of their clothes like snakes cleaning their scales. – How do you like your father's golden chicks?" My sister asked. - Beautiful. The Persian laughed again: "She doesn't know anything!" Have you ever seen such a fool? "Never," said the nurse. I didn't want to ask, but I was still caught up in my own thoughts, imagining the slashed bodies sprawled on the marble floor. – What don't I know?" Her sister's beautiful animal face. "That he copulates with them, of course. So new ones are born. He turns into a bull and begets new heifers with them, and the old ones are cooked for dinner. That's why everyone thinks they're immortal. "That's not true. They roared with laughter, pointing fingers at my flushed cheeks. The noise attracted my mother. She liked her sister and brother's jokes. "We told Circe about the cows," the Persian explained. Her mother's laughter turned to silver, like a spring running through rocks. "Silly Circe.

Отредактировано test (2024-04-12 23:23:23)