（外文电子版资料）Walter Jon Williams - Prayers on the Wind.pdfVIP

PRAYERS ON THE WIND by WALTER JON WILLIAMS [VERSION 1.1 (Feb 13 03). If you find and correct errors in the text, please update the version number by 0.1 and redistribute.] First appeared in When the Musics Over , edited by Lewis Shiner, 1991. For the personal use of those who have purchased the ESF 1993 Award anthology only. Hard is the appearance of a Buddha. --Dhammapada Bold color slashed bright slices out of Vajras violet sky. The stiff spring breeze off the Tingsum glacier made the yellow prayer flags snap with sounds like gunshots. Sun gleamed from baroque tracework adorning silver antennae and receiver dishes. Atop the dark red walls of the Diamond Library Palace, saffron-robed monks stood like sentries, some of them grouped in threes around ragdongs, trumpets so huge they required two men to hold them aloft while a third blew puff-cheeked into the mouthpiece. Over the deep, grating moan of the trumpets, other monks chanted their litany. Salutation to the Buddha. In the language of the gods and in that of the Lus, In the language of the demons and in that of the men, In all the languages which exist, I proclaim the Doctrine. Jigme Dzasa stood at the foot of the long granite stair leading to the great library, the spectacle filling his senses, the litany dancing in his soul. He turned to his guest. Are you ready, Ambassador? The face of !urq was placid. Lus? she asked. Mythical beings, said Jigme. Serpentine divinities who live in bodies of water. Ah, !urq said. Im glad we got that cleared up. Jigme looked at the alien, decided to say nothing. Let us begin, said the Ambassador. Jigme hitched up his zen and began the long climb to the P