In an unknown time, a boy named Gabriel grew up in a lonely village, amid the fertile steppe. His father, Ion, had the only blacksmith's workshop far and wide. A man, just like a blacksmith. A powerful upper body, thick muscular packs on the upper arms, the hands true paws. His imposing mustache, which he bore in long strands, like the clan, was something brutal to his facial features. But whoever knew him more closely, as Gabriel imagined, could recognize the dreamer, the thinker, the artist. The mother of Gabriel, who was called Deba, seemed to be a fairy beside him. Small, delicate, the delicate facial features of an elf. Her blond hair perfected the picture. A well-functioning spouse, for Deba was just the opposite of Jon's character, at least to the outside. She sprayed with energy. In the village community, which consisted of just 50 houses, there was nothing that she would not have appreciated with her cheerfulness. Gabriel had inherited the physique of the mother and the fatherly nature of his father. His hair, however, had the color of polished ebony. As with all the children, the hair was allowed to grow, braid a braid. The hair was cut off only in the male dysentery, the girls in the female group. In the next stage of life, it would grow again, the plait was then no longer braided. This tradition was based on the belief that hair belonged to the head, in which the dreams were deposited. It was not only Gabriel's stature that quickly made his father realize that his son was not a successor in the blacksmith's profession. He thought nothing of the fact that he had a hard physical job, so that the fragile boy grew a muscular, lanky young fellow. Life, this seemed to Gabriel not only so, resembled existence in a paradise. Despite, perhaps also because of the work in Ion's workshop, he lacked nothing. The same could be said of all the inhabitants of the house-community. This was probably due to the modest political system that governed living together. It consisted of a council of the wise women, the respective rank as one of the nine members was inherited to the respective oldest daughter. The system worked very well since the first time. No one, therefore, had the leisure or the desire to imagine it differently Gabriel had at his disposal all the possibilities that arose within the framework of the village and the surrounding area. He had a firm roof over his head, the food was served three times a day, and spirits, which he did not like, were in the inn. The girls would have taken a row if he had not been completely happy with the undoubtedly most beautiful lady in the village, who also replied this love.

The faith of men, a fertility religion that turned to the sun as a center of divine existence In sexuality. Well-known herbs prevented unwanted pregnancies.

Gabriel, when the manliness ritual moved into imaginable proximity, all experience and knowledge were exhausted, his immediate desires fulfilled. Why not live like this? But there was this beetle, he lived between his eyes, behind his forehead. Gabriel knew as much as he looked. A common dung beetle. The whispered. What is the meaning? Is there not more? Is there nothing else? Sexuality could be lived out only to a certain point, which his body, despite his youthful vitality, set him. Alcohol and drugs gave him nothing. There were no books. The work, well, he had everything he needed more. A marriage, children? The beetle heard a loud throat clearing. So Gabriel moved to the food. He ate everything, in fact. With all his senses. At first only the local kitchen, to the weariness, a corresponding weight, which no longer ran it. He relocated to the fruits of the forest, he fed a good time of herbs, fruits, and all the game, the insects. Even before wood he did not stop. Soon he found himself able to differentiate the various types of wood according to variety, position, age. He ate rock, earth, even tried metal. At last there was nothing more that he had not already tried. For a long time, he thought.

Could this be all that the sun, the God, had to offer? The beetle behind his forehead jumped up and down.

Now Gabriel began to eat the colors. It found its beginning on a forest walk, he sought edible roots. The leaflet of a bush, where he passed, fascinated him, from one moment to the next. He gently stroked the lime green of the structure, there remained a little There was a little hang on his fingertip. Before he knew it, he put his finger in his mouth.

The beetle chuckled. Herb, this green tasted a bit salty. Fascinated, he strolled through the forest, tried here and there, fell into a true taste of music, which of course did not end at home. Every color of his parents' house, the village, the people, animals, household items he cost. The pattern of the bedspread tasted like a bitter almond, while the black of the blacksmith was sweetish, decay-like. So he groped, drunk with sensual impressions, through the coloring. Finally, for many years he collected the impressions, this experience also came to an end. More! There must still exist another! The beetle creaked, lowered his pince-nez in Gabriel's brain Mother, father! Dearest friend! I will leave you! There's more out there! He stood in the spacious parlor of his parents' house, trying desperately, with this decisive sentence, to go against the urge to fall into passivity. Here he set the course. His now thirty-year life decided. The information content is secondary. The next morning he left the native village, as luggage only a small leather satchel. The wandering over the Steppenslandschaft gave him a lot of new sensual impressions, tastes, colors, forms, but many of them already knew from the village community. That changed as he approached the capital after a weeks-long journey. There were things that he had never seen before, smelled, tasted. The city itself overthrown it into excessive confusion. He found hostel in a cottage on the outskirts, a horse was born. It was only by the hour that he explored the chaotic conglomerate of impressions, which seemed to crush him in the city. So much new! So much unknown, not understandable!

Nearly another thirty years, the ever-widening experience of Gabriel's interruption, like the knowledge of death, when he had to carry his two parents to the grave, the beetle was silent in his head. But then he told the aged Gabriel, painfully, again. You've learned so much! What is the meaning? God. The sun! Answered Gabriel the searcher. Where is she? And the beetle pushed the tips of his claws into Gabriel's brain. Next morning, Gabriel rode away from the city to seek the sun. Ten years, half a horse-life long, he trotted over the country, drove over the seas. But the place where the glowing ball, the essence of life put to sleep, he did not find. At the end of his knowledge, desperately, he found a cave at a lonely place in the mountains. Here lived a hermit, a holy man. Gabriel asked for advice. You have tasted the colors of the world. Now you are looking for the sun. But find the beginning of a rainbow and you will understand!

Gabriel, an old man soon, began to look for the beginning of the rainbows. When his horse died, he buried it under an oak tree, then continued on a gnarled staff of the same tree with arthritic bones. One evening a thunderstorm surprised him. As the rain subsided, the sun came through the clouds, Gabriel noticed a gigantic rainbow forming. He watched the color play on the neighboring hill begin. As fast as his feet carried him, he crashed through the waist-high grass, scratching bushes to get to the hill. Trembling, he finally stood in front of the wide ribbons of color that seemed to unite here with the earth in a wondrous game. The beetle stuck in silence. Gabriel came closer, bent down, grabbed a piece of one of the many blues, and here one could find every color. This blue tasted to Tang, to the sea, to the ocean. It tasted wonderful. Unearthly. Gabriel began to eat the rainbow. He eaten one color after another, watching for change, in strange, joyous excitement. When he had finished his extensive meal, burnished belly, he realized that he had eaten the colors of the world.

He looked around, the world no longer existed. At that moment, after nearly 75 years of searching, Gabriel saw the reality. No colors, no world. It is only illusion. Only he himself remained Gabriel, the sunbeam, who always thought he was alone, in this beautiful, sometimes terrible world he had tasted, realized that he is a part of the sun that does not need color because it is the color.



Thom Delißen Die Autorenhomepage von Thom Delißen


Music & Video for Peace

  • Tolle Videos
  • Fetziger Sound
  • Bewegende Thematik

Audiobooks von Thom Delißen

Hörbücher von Thom Delißen

  • Der Mann
  • Question Authority
  • Die Gedanken des Friedwart Pies