Modern Russian Poetry/"The Capitals Are Rocked with Thunder"
"THE CAPITALS ARE ROCKED WITH THUNDER"
The capitals are rocked with thunder
Of orators in wordy feuds.
But in the depths of Russia, yonder,
An age-old awful silence broods.
Only the wind in wayside willows,
Coming and going, does not cease;
And corn-stalks touch in curving billows
The earth that cherishes and pillows,
Through endless fields of changeless peace.