The number of musicians and priests, of corporations, of emblems and banners, is quite bewildering.

The God Amen himself came by water, on the river, in his golden barge with its raised prow, followed by the barques of all the other gods and goddesses of his heaven.

The reddish stone, carved with minute care, tells me all this, as it has already told it to so many dead generations, so that I seem almost to see it.
And now everybody has gone: the colonnades are empty and the noise of the dynamos has ceased.

Midday approaches with its torpor.

The whole temple seems to be ablaze with rays, and I watch the clear-cut shadows cast by this forest of stone gradually shortening on the ground.