(Türkçe metin için yorum bölümüne bkz.)
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It was summer, in a place where the crops in the valleys were ripe and harvest would start soon. Fields of yellow golden wheat were flowing with the mild wind and within, some blue and red flowers here and there. You could imagine a village by the hills and laughs and happy shouts coming from an Inn, where people were dancing and enjoying themselves in an innocent way.
A convoy of soldiers from an occupying country is passing by and one carriage, heavily guarded with a prisoner, maybe an officer of the occupied country, sitting between guards with hand-cuffs at his hands. His uniform looks like those of the Italian Garibaldian independence force, the red shirts and was a horse-mounted force officer. When they arrive by the village, the prisoner, said to an officer ridding his horse by the carriage something and the battalion stopped. They stepped down with the guards and slowly came in the Inn where the music and the dance where at their climax. Their entrance casted a shadow and the music stopped and a murmur was heard all around the room.Dancing couples were standing, like paralysed, all watching the intruders and you could feel the questioning. It must have been a wedding as in the middle, a lady in a beautiful white dress was enlaced by the arms of someone looking like his groom. They both were young and the woman’s heart was beating more strongly.
As when the soldiers came in. The prisoner looked at her and then looked at the officer commanding and with a silent demand and the other give a silent order at a guard that un-hand-cuffed the prisoner. The silence was tense, and you saw then the prisoner walking slowly towards the young married. The brides heart was beating more and more quickly and their eyes met. The prisoner took his hand and started to engage some waltz steps with her. People all around murmured, not knowing what was happening and the music started again, a waltz from old, and they whirled and whirled.The other couples started again and the room was again full of music, laughs and you can also hear the glasses of the drinkers toasting again. In the center, turning and turning by the waltz, the bride questioning the man who was dancing with her, with her eyes, feeling that they were no words to be expressed what was happening. What stroke her was the expression of the stranger’s eyes, so sad, so already far away.
When the music stopped, the man smiled and saluted her goodbye by putting a soft kiss on her hand and turned away taken out by the soldiers. She saw him going away, not understanding what happened but knew that for the time they were dancing, they were united in something deeper, something where the souls where touched. A cold feeling came from her heart beatting, she suddenly understood what happened, who he was and where he was going, a place of honor and of no return. She then imagined, her heart filled suddenly with a warmth never experienced before, him standing in front of the battalion, smiling in front of these soldiers in foreign blue uniforms pointing at him their guns, by the wall of an old cellar, early in the morning when the mist had not dispersed, not far away, behind the hills and the golden fields.
He would smile when seeing the smoke and hearing the shots of the guns, taking with him the souvenir of the eyes of the young bride, he danced a moment of eternity with. Leaning on the grass, a small stream of blood was flowing from his chest, his eyes closed now, his soul dreaming of the blue and red like flowers, seen by the fields, ripe for the harvest to come…
Illustration, Wheat fields with Cypresses (1889) by Vincent Van Gogh