Two Brothers
by
Translated From The Russian
By Isabel Hapgood
It was a vision….
Two angels presented themselves before me … two spirits.
I say angels … spirits, because neither of them had any garments on their naked bodies, and from the shoulders of both sprang long, powerful wings.
Both are youths. One is rather plump, smooth of skin, with black curls. He has languishing brown eyes with thick eyelashes; his gaze is ingratiating, cheerful, and eager. A charming, captivating countenance a trifle bold, a trifle malicious. His full red lips tremble slightly. The youth smiles like one who has authority,–confidently and lazily; a sumptuous garland of flowers rests lightly on his shining hair, almost touching his velvet eyebrows. The spotted skin of a leopard, pinned with a golden dart, hangs lightly from his plump shoulders down upon his curving hips. The feathers of his wings gleam with changeable tints of rose-colour; their tips are of a brilliant red, just as though they had been dipped in fresh, crimson blood. From time to time they palpitate swiftly, with a pleasant silvery sound, the sound of rain in springtime.
The other is gaunt and yellow of body. His ribs are faintly discernible at every breath. His hair is fair, thin, straight; his eyes are huge, round, pale grey in colour … his gaze is uneasy and strangely bright. All his features are sharp-cut: his mouth is small, half open, with fish-like teeth; his nose is solid, aquiline; his chin projecting, covered with a whitish down. Those thin lips have never once smiled.
It is a regular, terrible, pitiless face! Moreover, the face of the first youth,–of the beauty,–although it is sweet and charming, does not express any compassion either. Around the head of the second are fastened a few empty, broken ears of grain intertwined with withered blades of grass. A coarse grey fabric encircles his loins; the wings at his back, of a dull, dark-blue colour, wave softly and menacingly.
Both youths appeared to be inseparable companions.
Each leaned on the other’s shoulder. The soft little hand of the first rested like a cluster of grapes on the harsh collar-bone of the second; the slender, bony hand of the second, with its long, thin fingers, lay outspread, like a serpent, on the womanish breast of the first.
And I heard a voice. This is what it uttered:
“Before thee stand Love and Hunger—own brothers, the two fundamental bases of everything living.
“Everything which lives moves, for the purpose of obtaining food; and eats, for the purpose of reproducing itself.
“Love and Hunger have one and the same object; it is necessary that life should not cease,–one’s own life and the life of others are the same thing, the universal life.”
August, 1878.