Explore "The Pilgrim Kamanita" by Karl Gjellerup on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Deeply moved by these vivid memories, the pilgrim became silent for a short time. Then he sighed, drew his hand over his forehead, and went on with his narrative.
In short, O brother, I went about during this whole time as if intoxicated with bliss, and my feet scarcely seemed to touch the earth. On one occasion I was obliged to laugh aloud because I heard that there were people who called this world a vale of woe, and who directed their thoughts and wishes to the not being born again among men. "What arrant fools, Somadatta," I cried, "as if there could be a more perfect abode of bliss than the Terrace of the Sorrowless!"