Note: Translator Pauline Bancroft Flach died in 1966, less than 70 years ago. Therefore, this work is protected by copyright, restricting your legal rights to reproduce it. However, you are welcome to view it on screen, as you do now. Read more about copyright.
Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Third book - III. The Home-coming
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
148 THE MIRACLES OF ANTICHRIST ’
III
THE HOME-COMING
It is a strange thing to come home. While yet on
the journey, you cannot at all realize how strange it
will be.
When you come down to Reggio on the Strait of
Messina, and see Sicily emerge from the sea like a
bank of fog, you are at first almost impatient. “ Is
it nothing else?” you say. “It is only a land like
all others.”
And when you disembark at Messina you are still
impatient. Something ought to have happened
while you have been away. It is dreadful to be met
by the same poverty, the same rags, the same
misery as when you went away.
You see that the spring has come. The fig-trees
are again in leaf; the grape-vines send out tendrils
which grow yards long in a few hours, and a mass
of peas and beans are spread out on the fruit-stands
by the harbor.
If you glance towards the heights above the town,
you see that the gray cactus plants that climb along
the edges of the cliffs are covered with blood-red
flowers. They have blossomed everywhere like
little, glowing flames. It looks as if the flower
cups had been filled with fire, which now is
breaking out.
But, however much the cactus blossoms, it is still
gray and dusty and cobwebby. You say to yourself
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
