All that had been so luminous—the faces and robes of the blest and of the genii, no less than the clouds and flowers—all gradually lost brightness, and a blue twilight haze appeared to weave its threads about the distances. The fresh fragrance of the flowers too, that had formerly been as a vitalizing breath to everything, had gradually become a soporific odour, at once distressing to the respiratory organs, and stupefying to the senses.
Kamanita indicated the things about him with a tired movement of the hand.
"How can one possibly feel pleasure in such a sight, Vasitthi?"
"For this reason, my friend, it is possible to feel pleasure in such a sight, that if all this were lasting and did not pass away, there would be nothing higher. But now there is something higher; for this does pass, and beyond there is that which knows neither decay nor genesis. Just that it is that the Master calls 'joy in the transient'; and for that reason he says: 'If thou hast discerned the dissolution of all created things, then thou dost know the uncreated.'"
At these confident words, Kamanita's features grew animated, as a flower that is withering for want of water revives beneath the falling rain.
"Blessings on thee, Vasitthi! For my salvation wast thou given me. Yes, I feel it. We have erred but in this one particular—our longings did not aim high enough. We desired for ourselves this life in a paradise of flowers. And flowers must, assuredly, in accordance with their nature, wither. Everlasting, however, are the stars; according to eternal laws they keep their courses. And look there, Vasitthi; while all else shows the pale traces of decay, that little river—a tributary of the heavenly
