men say that if thou comest to sundari, beyond all the plains, and shalt climb to his summit before thou art seized by the avalanche which sitteth always on his slopes, that then there lie before thee many peaks. and if thou shalt climb these and cross their valleys (of which there be seven and also seven peaks) thou shalt come at last to the land of forgotten hills, where amid many valleys and white snow there standeth the "great temple of one god only."
therein is a dreaming prophet who doeth naught, and a drowsy priesthood about him.
these be the priests of mana-yood-sushai.
within the temple it is forbidden to work, also it is forbidden to pray. night differeth not from day within its doors. they rest as mana rests. and the name of their prophet is ood.
ood is a greater prophet than any of all the prophets of earth, and it hath been said by some that were ood and his priests to pray chaunting all together and calling upon mana-yood-sushai that mana-yood-sushai would then awake, for surely he would hear the prayers of his own prophet—then would there be worlds no more.
there is also another way to the land of forgotten hills, which is a smooth road and a straight, that lies through the heart of the mountains. but for certain hidden reasons it were better for thee to go by the peaks and snow, even though thou shouldst perish by the way, that thou shouldst seek to come to the house of ood by the smooth, straight road.
the river
there arises a river in pegana that is neither a river of water nor yet a river of fire, and it flows through the skies and the worlds to the rim of the worlds, a river of silence. through all the worlds are sounds, the noises of moving, and the echoes of voices and song; but upon the river is no sound ever heard, for there all echoes die.
the river arises out of the drumming of skarl, and flows for ever between banks of thunder, until it comes to the waste beyond the worlds, behind the farthest star, down to the sea of silence.
i lay in the desert beyond all cities and sounds, and above me flowed the river of silence through the sky; and on the desert's edge night fought against the sun, and suddenly conquered.
then on the river i saw the dream-built ship of the god yoharneth-lahai, whose great prow lifted grey into the air above the river of silence.
her timbers were olden dreams dreamed long ago, and poets' fancies made her tall, straight masts, and her rigging was wrought out of the people's hopes.
upon her deck were rowers with dream-made oars, and the rowers were the people of men's fancies, and princes of old story and people who had died, and people who had never been.
these swung forward and swung back to row yoharneth-lahai through the worlds with never a sound of rowing. for ever on every wind float up to pegana the hopes and the fancies of the people which have no home in the worlds, and there yoharneth-lahai weaves them into dreams, to take them to the people again.
and every night in his dream-built ship yoharneth-lahai setteth forth, with all his dreams on board, to take again their old hopes back to the people and all forgotten fancies.
but ere the day comes back to her own again, and all the conquering armies of the dawn hurl their red lances in the face of the night, yoharneth-lahai leaves the sleeping worlds, and rows back up the river of silence, that flows from pegana into the sea of silence that lies beyond the worlds.
and the name of the river is imrana the river of silence. all they that be weary of the sound of cities and very tired of clamour creep down in the night-time to yoharneth-lahai's ship, and going aboard it, among the dreams and the fancies of old times, lie down upon the deck, and pass from sleeping to the river, while mung, behind them, makes the sign of mung because they would have it so. and, lying there upon the deck among their own remembered fancies, and songs that were never sung, and they drift up imrana ere the dawn, where the sound of the cities comes not, nor the voice of the thunder is heard, nor the midnight howl of pain as he gnaws at the bodies of men, and far away and forgotten bleat the small sorrows that trouble all the worlds.
but where the river flows through pegana's gates, between the great twin constellations yum and gothum, where yum stands sentinel upon the left and gothum upon the right, there sits sirami, the lord of all forgetting. and, when the ship draws near, sirami looketh with his sapphire eyes into the faces and beyond them of those that were weary of cities, and as he gazes, as one that looketh before him remembering naught, he gently waves his hands. and amid the waving of sirami's hands there fall from all that behold him all their memories, save certain things that may not be forgotten even beyond the worlds.
it hath been said that when skarl ceases to drum, and mana-yood-sushai awakes, and the gods of pegana know that it is the end, that then the gods will enter galleons of gold, and with dream-born rowers glide down imrana (who knows whither or why?) till they come where the river enters the silent sea, and shall there be gods of nothing, where nothing is, and never a sound shall come. and far away upon the river's banks shall bay their old hound time, that shall seek to rend his masters; while mana-yood-sushai shall think some other plan concerning gods and worlds.