Memory

by H. P. Lovecraft

　　

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In the valley of Nis the accursed waning moon shines thinly, tearing a pathfor its light with feeble horns through the lethal foliage of a great upas-tree.And within the depths of the valley, where the light reaches not, move forms notmeant to be beheld. Rank is the herbage on each slope, where evil vines andcreeping plants crawl amidst the stones of ruined palaces, twining tightly aboutbroken columns and strange monoliths, and heaving up marble pavements laid byforgotten hands. And in trees that grow gigantic in crumbling courtyards leaplittle apes, while in and out of deep treasure-vaults writhe poison serpents andscaly things without a name. Vast are the stones which sleep beneath coverletsof dank moss, and mighty were the walls from which they fell. For all time didtheir builders erect them, and in sooth they yet serve nobly, for beneath themthe grey toad makes his habitation.At the very bottom of the valley lies the river Than, whose waters are slimyand filled with weeds. From hidden springs it rises, and to subterraneangrottoes it flows, so that the Daemon of the Valley knows not why its waters arered, nor whither they are bound.The Genie that haunts the moonbeams spake to the Daemon of the Valley,saying, "I am old, and forget much. Tell me the deeds and aspect and name ofthem who built these things of Stone." And the Daemon replied, "I am Memory, andam wise in lore of the past, but I too am old. These beings were like the watersof the river Than, not to be understood. Their deeds I recall not, for they werebut of the moment. Their aspect I recall dimly, it was like to that of thelittle apes in the trees. Their name I recall clearly, for it rhymed with thatof the river. These beings of yesterday were called Man."So the Genie flew back to the thin horned moon, and the Daemon lookedintently at a little ape in a tree that grew in a crumbling courtyard.

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