From within the enchanted dream of those bewitching flowers breaks out the magical voice of Kundry, the original She-Devil, the prototype of perdition and of downfall; she, the one who not even Amfortas himself, the marvelous King of the Holy Grail, could in a foregone time resist.
The mysterious female cries out passionately, calling the Hero by his own name, the name with which, in other times, his loving mother tenderly used to name him.
“Parsifal, stay here” cries out the sweet voice. “Here linger! Parsifal! To greet you, pleasure and joy are here… You, vulgar amorous women and flimsy children, leave him alone; fast-withering charming flowers, be off..!”
When hearing these words, the voluble, variable and versatile Nymphs remain profoundly reluctant.
It is written (this is known by many people) that those malignant beauties subsequently disappeared laughing into the tenebrous castle of Klingsor.
Parsifal looks around timidly to the side of love whence the voice came forth…
Then, he contemplates the vision of such a young and splendorous, beautiful woman. The provocative Kundry appears in altered form lying on a flowery couch, embellished with the most fantastic and tempting light veil- like garment that the Arabian style could ever dream of.
“Were you perhaps, oh sublime feminine beauty, the one who called to me? Did you call to me, the nameless?
“Are you also (oh Gods!) a flower grown and detached from this perfumed garden?”
“Yes”, answered Kundry, that impetuous blond woman who was named Herodias. Her so tender words resound with heartbreaking accents, as a very sweet lyre…
“I name you, foolish pure one, Fal-Parsi…”
“So pure and foolish: ‘Parsifal’, there, in the far exotic land of Caliphs and Sultans, your father Gamuret so named you, his son, who in your mother’s womb were stirring. Precisely, to give you these tidings I was waiting here.”
“However, indeed, I was not born amidst this garden of marvels as the other beauties…”
“Far, far from these enchantments of a thousand-and- one-nights is my beloved homeland. Just for you to find me, I lingered here awhile in this corner of passionate joys.,,
“From very far lands hence came I, many extraordinary things I have seen; expecting you so that you might listen…”
“It is good for you to know that I have the joy of knowing your mother Herzeleide…”
That exceptional woman for ever weeping, born of sorrow, but laughing while before the grief for your father’s love and death. Placing her hope as the most high and imperious holy duty, she decided to save you from fate like his. From clash of arms, from men in deadly conflict, she ever strove to shield you and protect you.
“Mother sweetest, dearest mother, who had one time pomegranate lips, ivory teeth, long curls of hair falling as a cascade upon those, her warm and perfumed shoulders, upon that, her body chiseled with burin…”
“Holy, truest, dearest mother who had one time all the enchantments of a beautiful Houri; tender, white and perfumed mother, as a Madonna lily that, when opening its calyx, on tender mosses you were cradled.”
“So anxious was she, ah, and fearful: such grieves that never would disturb you. Can you remember her anxious cry when late and far you were roaming?”
“Mother, sweetest, dearest mother, who in those nights of full moon placed a swing in the great tree of your garden…”
“There she brought sweets to you and your dinner scented with moss, carnation, verbena, roses, peaches and jasmine…”
“You were heedless of all her care, of all her anguished grieving, when one day you did not return and left no trace behind you…”
“Long days and nights, for you she anxiously waited, until her cries grew silent, and died…”
Samael Aun Weor
