Eve Considers the Possibility of Pardon

In one dream I am made watchful. In this dream the name we never clearly have heard is spoken, which name, if we knew and could speak it, would call back to us those whom in time we will have come to love and who will die; would bring them back to us like us abandoned again to his terrible consequence, the silence between us forever affirmed. And in whatever might constitute the pardon would come down in a fragile rain the whole matter of all we will ever love, the whole fiery blade of space, ten billions of suns suddenly blossoming small and cool as snowdrops over the opening graves, the world shimmering with the blue delicate membrane of the fallen sky, while above us the forsaken voice calls out come back come back as if calling the name each of us had long forgotten until that very instant not remembered as proper to our hearts.