这一篇超级长，没有半个小时看不完。
MONO 的专辑《 Hymn to the Immortal Wind 》（ 不朽的风之赞歌 ）制作于 2008 年，2009 年发行，被认为其巅峰作品之一。在创作这张专辑之前，乐队首先让一位编剧朋友创作了一个故事，以此为基础开始作曲。
这个故事关于「一名少年和一名少女的轮回转世」，并制作成画册附在 CD 之中。
这一篇文章，用来记录画册里的这个故事（全英，翻译稍后奉上）。供有精力的朋友品味原汁原味的故事。画册图片来自@陵隈 ，除欣赏外请勿做它用。
\ Ashes in the snow
Swiftly as a draft of wind, moving past her without a trace, Time, cold and unbending, leaves her standing alone once again. Long ago,there was the sound of two children running here. Their footsteps,never straying far apart from each other's, still echo through the woods where an old woman walks on this day.
On a still river surrounded by weeping willows, the woman rows her boat towards the open sea. With a grave face she pull the oars to and fro, her eyes fixed upon a nearby cliff above the waters. She traces the edge and holds her breath, reliving the chilling distance down to the bottom. Her rhythm is steady and slow as she breaks through the familiar fog. The sound of waves crashing,the lingering smell of burnt wood, and she reflection of branches on the water all remain the same as her memory, as if frozen in a spell, She inhales all she can hold and wonders if winter never ended since that cold night she stood on the cliff with him. Here lies their landscape of memories untouched by the awakening of spring.
On this day the woman prepares for farewell. Heavy are his sahes,sinking in her hand. As she strains to let his remains go, she turns herself to the earth for an answer , a reminder of why she is here.
Beneath her grief she knows there is something beyond the finality of this moment. Like the spring that is born from a cruel winter, there is something here waiting to be born. Resting he hand on the boat, she lets her eys sleep.
Peering from the thickets of the surrounding woods, a promise tree faithfully waits to welcome this day of their journey. With roots woven deeply into the earth, it is the only thing that's flourished here where all else has stood still. In the midst of it all. it continues to grow, nurturing the vow that it was planted with as if it were its child. The tree watches the woman tenderly and sways its branches, sending a stream of wind to relieve her.
In the place between wake and sleep, there lies a bridge over the waters. The woman finds herself on one end, walking towards the figure standing in the middle. With her arms open, she feels lifted as if she was a child again. Hours pass before she awakes in the boat by the embrace of dim sunlight. Finding the ashes still waiting in her palm, she blesses them with her love and releases them into a stream of wind that carries them over the waters. The woman travels back into a time where they prayed here together, a dreadful time where they found solace in each other's promise.
Her eyes follow the flight of the ashes until they fade into falling snow before her-the same snow of the winter that they loved and perished here together.
\ Burial At Sea
He watched the heavy sea stretch to the edge of the earth without fail. Its ever-present body was frightening, yet its freedom beautiful. Above the horizon, nothing remained but a moon and sky stained by smoke. Beneath it, abandoned ships rocked back and forth, half sunken and eaten by decay. For endless miles of empty waters, waves swayed in unison as if they were mourning. The earth knew and the boy did, too.
It was the beginning of a merciless winter and the end was nowhere in sight. A young boy, having lost track of time, hurried through the woods towards an empty patch by the river. With every step he grew uneasy as he could not see her small figure waiting there. Out of breath, he dropped to his knees and prayed in fear.
The sky had cast a dreary blanket upon the earth, draping over every last creature. A stench of smoke clouds and distant confined people in their homes. Their world was now a ghost town where the sound of children’s laughter was drowned by hunger cries. Even the village dogs had gone mad and roamed the streets aimlessly. What was once a simple life was now a battle to survive each passing day. Perhaps, the earth was preparing to cleanse, for it was the end of time, a rebirth of time.
A pair of small hands covered his eyes and he turned to find a young girl with soot streaked across her face. He embraced her closely as his panic melted, and unable to let go for a single moment they warmed each other until night fell. They inhaled the air around them, ripe with the scent of burnt pine and evening frost, a familiar smell of the place they once called home. Their families had perished, and all that was left for them was a will to stay together. Day by day, they watched themselves surrender to the inevitable fate of the earth.
There it stood in the back of a deserted shed. The boy had found it leaning in a pot as if it was waiting for him, young, green, and alive. That morning he had awoken with a mission. It was time to offer a gift to their woods, something that could grow, something that would survive. Upon searching a row of farms, he had caught a glimpse of the young tree left alone to wither. The edges of the leaves had faded into brown, the dirt was dry, but it was alive nonetheless.
Pleased with himself, he could not help but laugh aloud while carrying his new treasure. But as he ran to meet her, he heard heavier footsteps trailing behind him. Before he could glance, a heavy figure thrust him to the ground, sending the tree flying ahead. Having seen him rummage through his shed, a man began to kick the boy as if he was nothing but a stump in the ground. The boy heard himself cry out, but as his own voice faded away, he could only hear the sound of his flesh against the man’s fists and feet. For a moment, he ignored the man’s brute strength and watched him stare straight ahead blankly. They look in his eyes was emptier than the village they stood in.
Alone at last after what seemed like hours, the boy awoke in agony. But surrounded by pieces of the shattered pot, the tree remained unharmed, now with its healthy roots bare. Strengthened by the sight of it, he ignored the pain in his body and stood up.
When the girl saw him limping towards her in the woods, she took him into her arms and cleaned him with her torn white clothes without questioning what had happened. Cupping his face, she wept for him as he tried to hide his wounds in shame. They sat in silence together, listening to the wind passing overhead and imaging its destination to be a better place that where they remained.
He brought forth the tree and placed it between. Her pale face appeared fragile, yet hopeful somehow. It had not changed in the years he had known her. When his eyes closed, she still appeared before him.
「This tree is stronger than us now. When we are no longer on this earth, it will continue to grow. We can leave our memory with this tree.」 he spoke.
「Someday, the earth will be beautiful again?」 she asked, arranging a dry leaf into his hair.
「Yes. We will find each other here then.」he said.
That evening they planted the tree into the earth and entrusted it with a part of their memory and vow. They collected white stones from the river and placed a visible ring in the ground around the tree, leaving room for the trunk to grow. Together they said a prayer to the sky, asking for the tree to survive the cruel winter and he guarded safely until they could return someday.
As they prayed on their knees, snow fell like tears onto the ground-the first snow of winter.
Two frail bodies teetered along the highest cliff by the sea that night. Three steps from the edge, she wondered what waited on the other side of the black waters. Two steps away, he studied her face, vowing to remember. On their last step, their eyes locked, a silent reminder of their promise. Leaving behind any fears, hand in hand they jumped, a leap of faith into the cold unwelcome waves below.
\ Silent Flight，Sleep Dawn
Above and beneath them was the sound of beating wings. Their arms flailed freely as they glided close together. Remembering the stories that traveled to their village, they knew this must be the place where children fly, the place where all things end and begin again. With their hands inseparable, they soared higher until all they could see below them was a blue velvet blanket with patches of sinking green. For the first time, they felt bigger than the sea, bigger than the earth. Lifted and safely tucked under the gentle wing of the wind, they dove through the clouds with their eyes closed and mouths open in joy. What a beautiful sight that lay before them, like a dream unfolding in slow motion.
「Carry us until we awake.」they prayed.
\ Pure As Snow (Trails of the Winter Storm)
Under the cold weight of snow, the earth will finally hibernate. It is the miracle of winter. Flakes fall as if they were sent to pause time before the seasons begin again. Some are clumsy, some are graceful, but each knows its landing place on the earth.
The only movement here is that of a young woman searching through the braided pine branches for an opening. Her white dress is camouflaged against the snow. Lost in this dream chamber, she moves through the white powder, running her hands through it to awaken her memory.
Parting the branches, she follows an open path cleared before her, swerving its way to a stone bridge adorned with icicles. Someone is waiting for her there, a gray figure, a stranger, watching her through the shower of white between them. They are uncertain of why they have come but they both long to be here. Although she cannot recognize his face, she knows him somehow. As they stand together, a single ray of light grows from behind, wrapping them in its warmth until they dissipate into it. When she awakes, a cloud of winter air still floats above her. It was just a dream again.
On this morning, a man awakes from the same dream, one that reoccurred so often that he felt incomplete without it at times. It haunted him. When his eyes closed, her face still appeared before him, but not one that he could recognize.
His oldest memory was of being an infant sitting before his family, unable to speak or walk on his own. He cried for days and nights, his small fists clenched, until one day he couldn’t remember why he was so sad anymore. Along with the other children, he learned to laugh and run again. This became his new life, and everything before then seemed no longer his.
The man watches swelling clouds from his window and cannot help but anticipate the arrival of something today. Bodies bustle their way past him as he sits outdoors, but they are like shadows murmuring to one another. They float by unnoticed as his eyes only fall upon a young woman, dressed in white, who stands behind the crowd. He feels comforted, almost relieved by the sight of her, and longs to be near her.
Their eyes lock, a strange longing glance that could not be severed by anything at that moment. Her eyes are like two deep wells of stories, perhaps one he may have heard before. They appear dewy, prepared to overflow.
In the distance, church bells ring. The humming noise and motion of the world seep back in to disturb their peace. If she is a mirage, she will disappear soon, he thinks. But she remains there, motionless. This time is not a dream.
With a final glance at him, the woman slowly vanishes into the sea of bodies. A steady downpour of snow ripples in the wind until he cannot see anything but the movement of white. Chaotic, like a surge of emotion, and yet pure, white, and delicate, the snowstorm remains an enigma to him. As he tastes the snowfall, he sees a single ray of light piercing through a cloud, and he cannot help but smile.
\ Follow The Map
The sea is made of our saltwater tears, he mutes. As the man drifts to sleep he watches himself dive into a sea lying below. Sunlight separates a path for him to swim and the currents carry him towards the place where light hits the ocean floor. Despite its warmth, these waters are forlorn to him. He descends lower with his palms together, longing for something that he cannot wholly remember. The further he sinks, the younger he becomes, and deeper into his memory he travels on the bottom of the sea, puzzling shapes and lines scatter in all directions like a treasure map. Pictures of life above water, a mountain, a cliff, and a tree, pave the surface around a young girl deep in slumber. Her face rests peacefully as if a part of her is drifting elsewhere in another world. From where he stands, it is all a painting to him, a portrait of a young girl waiting patiently underwater.
His eyes follow the footprints that lead from her body to the drawing of a single tree that stands alone. As the sea currents push forward, he imagines the branches blowing with the movement of water. With his finger, he traces a ring around the tree, again and again, as if it had become real before his eyes.
Without awakening her, he lies down and closes his eyes to sleep near her, hoping to meet her there in another place, another dream, wherever she travels to in her sleep.
\ The battle to heaven
At the very end of a tunnel, a faint white light flickers like a hole in a black wall. The man peers from one end before he enters and begins an arduous walk through the longest path he has ever seen. With jagged slopes and holes, the tunnel becomes a prison where his demons, foes, all tear at his sides to taunt him. But as he stumbles over debris beneath his feet, his eyes never leave the white hole at the end that grows with each step he takes. He treads through it, listening to his heartbeat echoing until he slowly awakes from this dream.
Dressed in white, the same woman stands before him with her head bowed. Her face is solemn and there is a plea in her eyes as she places a letter into his hands. And then, like a ghost who drifted in and out of his days, she was gone.
「Ever changing, growing, and searching through stretches of time beyond life and death.
This is the journey that every soul makes my journey always brings me to the place between wake and sleep.
A landscape of memories where you and I meet again and again.
Even in the darkest night, in the heaviest storm, I always find my way back to you.
When you remember, please come back to the place we both know.」
Reading her words again that night, the man falls asleep to find himself walking inside of the same tunnel. He paces with his arms outstretched as if he is pushing against the wind. The air smells of burnt pine and evening frost as the end is near in sight. When he guides himself out into the light, his hands brush against a rough surface, much taller and wider than he can reach. What lies on the outside of the tunnel is a fully-grown tree surrounded by a circle of white stones. He drops to his knees, touching its roots and turning over each stone in disbelief.
Recovering a lost memory is like a dam breaking open, releasing all the water that had been barricaded from flowing. As he sits here, every moment with her in these woods resurfaces within him. He holds a stone in his hands and weeps as he remembers their promise.
\ Everlasting Light
She has traveled far to be here again. Inside the boat, the old woman revives each season of their time together. Listening to the distant sound of beating wings, she gently releases the remaining ashes into the river, but they do not sink. Instead, they are swept into the wind and take flight towards the horizon that lies ahead. She watches them travel on, marveling at the tenacity of their endless journey.
When she turns, sitting before her is an old man watching her faithfully. Blessed to have reached this day together, they laugh as spring finally awakens around them. They row past the weeping willows and a familiar tree still surrounded by white stones. A bridge glows in the light of the setting sun as he takes her hand and guides her onto the ground. Hand in hand, they walk across their bridges into a tunnel of pure light without an end in sight.
【The End.】
Story by Heeya So.
祝好。
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