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A DIPTYCHI CainThe Cain question has not been settled yet,Some say that he did not kill his brotherand now, a marked man for the rest of eternity,wanders in the melancholy lands of the Continentsthat the door might shut on the step and the heart on the visit.Others contend that he didn't kill his brotherbut wanders, a marked man from generation to generationin the twilight of unexplored continentsthat the superstitious might heed the messages of dreamsthat the faithful God, fear, and the knife.Yet others say that seed of both beliefssprouts in Fate's own courtyard,opening out to monstrous sunflower nightthat drips a yellow bitter moonon the landscapes of the Continents, where Cain does evilbecause he has Abel for a brother.This school of thought has many followers,amongst whom the undecided poet.II AbelBut I who know the truth say nothing.Not that Hades will have numbed mein the pallid asphodel fields: those whom God protectsare left untouched by such degeneration,gathering measure of rust and silence, inheritance taxon the bridges of memory. My brother Cainlives in the tumult of the waters and reigns in the assemblyof the winds. Impeccable each morninghe hurries past my garden's rare wondersand beyond the foliage, the after-rain birds,the droplet fringes iridescing in the brilliance of colourhe passes again at five in the afternoonbeside the loveliest girl in the neighborhood. And lo,I with my lamp-oil folding the night backinto the headquarters of thunder, and in the thicketsof my knowledge, soft-footed leopard he, proudin the glory of his youth, lit up by the lovely woman.No, Cain would never stoop to stealing crumbsout of the sparrow's mouth. You don't take a knife to your brother for nothing.-- Dmitris Tsaloumas
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