... The hunter never returned to Myrna!
He was such a tough man that he would prefer to gallop through the ages, on a horse that he tamed and did not tame, rather than return defeated. But even the horse, in order not to be disgraced, would never return victorious to Myrna. So, neither of the two would be called upon to pay the heavy tax of humiliation in the incompatible game of pride.
Of course, there were some who believed that the hunter would return riding the horse after four hundred years.
"He will return on a Sunday when they distribute bay leaves," they said.
But if that happened, it would be completely in vain, because they would find no one in this place to remember them and wait for them. People would speak an incomprehensible language, forget the old songs and the spirited dances. They would not know how to dance with the clarinet, the drum, the zurna, and the lyre. The charming place would have become an endless desert. The sources and rivers of real life would dry up, and the language of people would stick in their throats from thirst. There would be no horses and hunters, and no one would knock on the door of myth anymore!...