Until it is proved otherwise

   At the dim light of a lonely candle a young man tries to compose himself, to put his

thoughts in some kind of a logical order...  When did he first meet her? Hundreds of

years ago or just yesterday?  What captured him in the deep well of her eyes? Sadness,

loneliness? The promise of passion? Or delicate shyness?



   He opens the book of prayers and finds one of Virgin Mary.  If she only knew how he

worships the beauty of the Creator!  He crosses himself and sighs...  Where, when and

why? The first two do not matter. But why? Why did it happen to him? She is from the

noble family and he... all his possessions... Omni mea mecum porto... His treasures are

invisible. Deep in heart. Would he ever be bold enough to offer them to her with the

glance of his purest eyes full of delight?



   The previous night he didn't have a wink - his rich imagination was at play.   Here he

comes over to her with a bunch of the field flowers to make it clear that his love is

natural like the wind in the mountains, pure water in a creek or a nightingale's song...


   But what is love? And how one can know that it is love? Was the feeling sent from the

Heaven or are these devil's tricks - many times he felt him trying to tempt, promising

pleasures of seduction.


   Now - God, Devil and... Love which somehow emerges between these two...  Maybe it is

a punishment for his sins?  But who if not God himself can show the way to paradise,

reveal how sweet and tender love may be...  Now Love and passion... if the first is

given by God then the second is  torturing you all day and long night. Once he thought

these two to be just different doors to one and the same room... but exactly at this

moment he understood that thus he lets the evil spirit in. Passion is a sin. He crosses

himself three times whispering the prayer...


   Oh, god, how easily one can fall into the abyss of...  He must do away with the

overwhelming desire... Is it possible to resist the temptation? Now he is definite he is

led to nowhere and his soul will be perished until... it is not proved otherwise.


                In the year of our Lord 1825.


                (The picture by the author)