The Buried Giant

by Kazuo Ishiguro

“Yet are you so certain, good mistress, you wish to be free of this mist? Is it not better some things remain hidden from our minds?”

“We’ll have the bad ones come back too, even if they make us weep or shake with anger. For isn’t it the life we’ve shared?”

“Are you still there, Axl?”

“You’re drifting further away, Axl. I can hardly hear you.” “I’m here beside you, princess.”

“Don’t forget me, Axl.” “Forget you? Why would I ever forget you, princess?” “This mist makes us forget so much. Why should it not make us forget each other?” “Such a thing can’t ever happen, princess.

When the hour’s too late for rescue, it’s still early enough for revenge.

“Even so, husband, they’re remembrances to make me shrink from you. When we’ve finished resting here, and we’re on our path again, let me walk a little way in front and you behind. Let’s go on our way like that, husband, for I’ll not welcome your step beside me now.”

When Axl finally found his voice, it had come out as no more than a whisper. “It would be the saddest thing to me, princess. To walk separately from you, when the ground will let us go as we always did.”

Promise me this at least. Promise, princess, you’ll not forget what you feel in your heart for me at this moment. For what good’s a memory’s returning from the mist if it’s only to push away another? Will you promise me, princess? Promise to keep what you feel for me this moment always in your heart, no matter what you see once the mist’s gone.”

Some of you will have fine monuments by which the living may remember the evil done to you.

Without this she-dragon’s breath, would peace ever have come?

“What kind of god is it, sir, wishes wrongs to go forgotten and unpunished?”

Leave this country to rest in forgetfulness.”

“The giant, once well buried, now stirs. When soon he rises, as surely he will, the friendly bonds between us will prove as knots young girls make with the stems of small flowers.

“I was wondering, princess. Could it be our love would never have grown so strong down the years had the mist not robbed us the way it did? Perhaps it allowed old wounds to heal.”

“Farewell then, Axl.” “Farewell, my one true love.”