“When you’re asleep, you’re excused,” said the East Wind, and then they flew even faster—you could hear it by the branches and leaves rustling through the tops of the forests when they flew over them. You could hear it by the sea and lakes—wherever they flew the waves broke higher, and the big ships bowed deeply down in the water like swimming swans.
Towards evening when it got dark, it was fun to see the big cities. Lights were burning down there in different places. It was just like when you burn a piece of paper and see all the little sparks of fire blinking and disappearing like children coming out from school and running in all directions. And the prince clapped his hands, but the East Wind told him to stop that and hold on; otherwise, he could easily fall down and find himself hanging on a church steeple.
The eagles in the dark forest flew quickly, but the East Wind flew more quickly. The Cossack on his little horse rushed across the plains, but the prince rushed faster.
“Now you can see the Himalayas,” said the East Wind. “The highest mountain in Asia is there. We’ll be at the Garden of Eden soon.” They veered to the south, and soon there was a smell of spices and flowers. Figs and pomegranates were growing wild, and the wild grapevines were full of blue and red grapes. They landed there and stretched on the soft grass where the flowers nodded to the wind as if they wanted to say, “welcome back.”
“Are we in the Garden of Eden now?” the prince asked.
“Certainly not,” said the East Wind, “but we’ll soon be there. See that wall of rock over there and that big cave where the grapevines are hanging like big green curtains? We’re going through there. Wrap your coat around you. The sun is shining warmly here, but just a step away it’s freezing cold. That bird that’s flying past the cave has one wing out here in the warm summer and the other in there in the cold winter.”
“So that’s the way to the Garden of Eden?” the prince asked.
They went into the cave. Oh, it was freezing cold, but it didn’t last long. The East Wind spread out his wings, and they shone like the clearest fire. But what caves! Big boulders hung over them in the most fantastic configurations, and water was dripping from them. Sometimes it was so narrow that they had to creep on their hands and knees, sometimes so wide and open as if they were out in the open air. It was like a funeral chapel in there with silent organ pipes and petrified banners.
“I guess we’re taking death’s path to the Garden of Eden,” said the prince, but the East Wind didn’t say a word, just pointed ahead where a beautiful blue light was beaming towards them. The boulders above became more and more a mist and finally were as clear as a white cloud in moonlight. Then they entered the loveliest mild atmosphere, as fresh as in the mountains, as fragrant as in a valley of roses.
There was a river running there as clear as the air itself, and the fish were like silver and gold. Crimson eels that shot off blue sparks with every movement were sparkling in the water, and the wide water lily leaves were the colors of the rainbow. The flower itself was a burning red-yellow flame fed by the water, just like oil always gets the lamp to burn. A solid bridge of marble, so artistically and finely carved as if it were made of lace and glass beads, led over the water to the Island of Bliss where the Garden of Eden was blooming.
The East Wind took the prince in his arms and carried him over. Flowers and leaves were singing the most beautiful songs of his childhood there, but far more lovely than any human voice can sing.
Were they palm trees or gigantic water plants growing there? The prince had never before seen such succulent large trees. Creeping plants were slung in big garlands through the trees like you only see them pictured with colors and gold in the margins or entwined in the initial letters of medieval manuscripts. They were a strange combination of birds, flowers, and twisting vines. Close by in the grass was a flock of peacocks with their radiant widespread tails. Or so they seemed, but when the prince touched them, he discovered that they weren’t animals but plants. They were big burdock leaves that were shining like beautiful peacock tails. Tame lions and tigers ran like lithe cats through the green hedges that smelled like apple blossoms, and the wild wood pigeon, shining like the most perfect pearl, flapped its wings on the lion’s mane. The antelope, usually so shy, stood nodding its head as if it wanted to play too.
Then the fairy of paradise came. Her clothes were shining like the sun, and her face was gentle as a happy mother’s when she is pleased with her child. She was very young and beautiful, and the loveliest girls, each with a shining star in her hair, were following her.
The East Wind gave her the leaf from the phoenix, and her eyes sparkled with joy. She took the prince by the hand and led him into her castle where the walls were the colors of the most radiant tulips held up to the sun. The ceiling itself was a big brilliant flower, and the more you stared up at it, the deeper the calyx appeared. The prince went to the window and looked through one of the panes, and he saw the tree of knowledge with the snake and Adam and Eve standing close by. “Weren’t they banished?” he asked, and the fairy smiled and explained to him that time had burned an image in each pane of the window, but not as you usually see pictures. These had life in them. The leaves of the trees moved, people came and went, as in a reflection. And he looked through a different pane, and there was Jacob’s dream where the ladder went clear up into heaven, and angels with huge wings were floating up and down. Everything that had happened in this world lived and moved in the glass panes. Only time could create such inspired paintings.
The fairy smiled and led him into a chamber with a big high ceiling. The walls appeared as transparent paintings, each face on them more lovely than the next. There were millions of these happy ones who smiled and sang together with one melody. Those high on top were so small that they appeared smaller than the tiniest rosebud when drawn as a dot on a piece of paper. In the middle of the chamber stood a big tree with superb hanging branches. Big and small gilded apples hung like oranges between the green leaves. It was the Tree of Knowledge, from which Adam and Eve had eaten. There was a red drop of dew dripping from each leaf; it was as if the tree were crying tears of blood.
“Let’s get into the boat,” said the fairy. “We’ll enjoy refreshments out on the water. The boat pitches back and forth although it doesn’t leave the spot, and all the countries of the world will pass before our eyes.” And it was marvelous to see how the entire coast moved. First came the high snow-covered Alps, with clouds and black evergreens. The horn sounded deep and mournfully, and the shepherd yodeled sweetly in the valley. Then the banana trees bent their long, hanging branches down over the boat. Coal black swans swam on the water, and the strangest animals were seen on the beaches—this was Australia, the fifth continent of the world, gliding by with a view of the blue mountains. You could hear the singing of medicine men and see the wild men dancing to the sound of drums and bone flutes. The pyramids of Egypt sailed by with their tops in the clouds, along with overturned pillars and sphinxes half buried in sand. The northern lights burned over the glaciers of the north. It was a fire works display that no one could match. The prince was ecstatic. Of course he saw a hundred times more than we can describe here.
“Can I stay here forever?” he asked.
