DEUX #2,
image by Rodrigue Marques de Souza
The Song of Lisaine
Traditional song of
Vlinsk
The present translation by the
ethnologist Ravis Nossing represents one of the only recorded texts from Vlinsk
to this day, apparently in its entirety. However, the Song of Lisaine may constitute a relatively autonomous episode in a longer epic work.
Summary descriptions in Nossing’s notes, recovered after his disappearance in
2173, evoke other episodes, especially concerning the illustrious twins Roven
and Ravella, but whether these belong to the same narrative cycle is not known.
The charming simplicity of this primitive literature has generally not
attracted the interest of scholars and we reproduce it here for its value as a
curiosity: rumor attributes to the people of Vlinsk the ability to reproduce
otherwise than by mitosis, and this narrative seems to recount the beginnings
of this repugnant practice, though it is not known whether the latter be mere
ritual, or some actual means of reproduction. We caution our readers that this
narrative, given the graphic nature of the content, may disturb those of
delicate sensibility.
Since long
ago, since
the
mountain watched high over
and the
forest outstretched,
since the
season nearly reached
fruit and
the tournaments
everywhere
raged the lust
of
champions, since that time
of all
time it was my Season,
it was our
season each one
of
division: it was my Season
and for
all time
I was
becoming us
in the
bliss
of
becoming us double.
Yet on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
It was the
season of division
and the
celebration was in full thirst;
a turn of
limbs and draperies,
a
procession of throngs in laughter,
a music of
tracks treading over
and of flame
and flame-red troupes:
and here a
dancer from whom drip
hues and
chimes;
here is
one who trances
in the
throes of fabrics;
here is
one who exults in a rush
of ripe
surrender –
in the
village square
rounds
unravel
oblivion-lovely
limbs
becoming
double.
Yet on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
When over
the people
declared
the hero Cuillain,
between
the copper of his voice
where fall
and rise
the sack
of Arcuin and of Dalve,
the raiding
swarms each night
starred
over by the drunken gods,
and the
madness of Cevin
who
vomited the mountain;
and the
hero Cuillain spoke
and
between the copper of his voice
would
arise the cry
The day
dulls, let us exalt,
exalt and hasten
the round,
the day
goes numb, and
Come, come
now the time
of
becoming us double.
And on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
The low
red day leans
and shadow
mists each shape,
the players
put out their crolls(1)
and voices
dim their unison;
and one
lets go in haste
to embrace
the earth,
another
and another,
in weary knots,
and the warmth
quiets further
and further.
In each
body the innards
furl and
lengthen;
the
millstones of the hips
pivot one
against the other
as I
remain,
a thin kernel,
a hearth
standing
abandoned
amidst the
celebration,
I,
Lisaine, alone
before the
coarse favor
of
becoming double.
Yet on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
Soundless
these puppets
unhinge
and flutter;
a sheaf of
cramps
creases
the hooked limbs,
spines
arch and split:
between
flesh
and soul
reach legions
of sinews
which align
along a
spindle(2)
as I
remain,
a thin kernel,
a hearth
standing
abandoned amidst
the
anguish of those
who will
become double.
Yet on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
Heart,
sway me
when this
just convulsion
from me
now turns aside;
flow not
as sorrow,
but, furor
or revolt,
deliver me
from this
divide
through which the nation
deprives me
of its bond;
I have
been the axis of this people;
now,
kinless, I do not number
among
them, I, Lisaine, standing
and
abandoned, alone
ousted
from the celebration
of your becoming
double.
Yet on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
Just as
rebellions
will rise
up a city of faces
ravaged or
enraged,
multiple I
struggled;
to take
action
drove and beset
me
aimless; then
a sudden reason
left me
devoid
or else a
bitterness poured me
senseless
toward the celebration;
and like
Pratellan seizing
the
vastness of Kholis
into his
throttled grip;
like the
vulture Golin
ripping
boughs
from the
world-tree,
ablaze
with weeping
upon
Cuillain I leapt.
And on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
In this
contest did I hope
he would split
open
to
disappear me there,
did I
desire his death, a standstill;
to melt
into or dismember him,
to lose
myself in the guts of him;
did I
think to take part?
Yet I
unleashed myself whole
and all my
famine;
I fought by
tremor
and by torment,
I feigned
fists, I needed,
lashed
out, strove, I fled myself
toward his
body coiled far
against me,
and among us
moved a
terror higher by degrees,
and a
consecration.
And on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
I confined
you, companion,
in my
arms’ own lunacy
enfolded
you in furrows
of the
violence I had become:
in fright,
my prince, I retreated you
by force
inside the commissure
of my
quivering body
when all
at once a velvet-slicked
brand burned
between me
like a
scabbard punctured through:
and our
sorrow rocking
bit by bit
became truce
and solace,
-- and to you I murmured,
I was long
with sighs,
and you
flickered, you shook,
my love, like
a refrain.
And on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
This pure
day and cruel
was the
season of union,
it was my
season, when two
became one,
springing forth
twins of
renown:
Roven of
sudden hand,
quick-hearted
Ravella,
the one
like the other
in need of
new paths through
words, our
speech was cleft
for all
time in two:
she [crd] for the one
who struck
ruin to the heart
of the
tyrant Martisca,
he(3) [crdü]
for the one
who plundered
the blinking spores
of the
monster Terluin,
and these were
the names they bore.
And on this day, when two
became one,
I forever split
our speech in two.
—Alexander
Dickow
End Notes
1. Curved musical
instrument with three strings, played with a short bow; this instrument is
typical of the furthest reaches of Vlinsk.
2.
The author is no doubt describing the prometaphase, the second phase of mitosis
in which the body is organized into bundles of filaments called kinetochore
microtubules, essential to the duplication of the individual.
3. The language of Vlinsk makes a distinction between the pronouns crd and crdü, and this distinction has repercussions on the entire
morphology of the language: thus, nouns belong to two morphological classes
corresponding to the use of these two pronouns. This complex system, thoroughly
explained in my Treatise on the Language of Vlinsk, has no equivalent in
Auredian; I therefore had to content myself with inserting the Vlinskian
pronouns between brackets. This aetiological myth concerning this language’s system of genders, as I baptised it in
my treatise, seems to me unique among all the cultures of the world. (R. Nossing’s Note.)
