A NORTHERN POEM[1]
Sunset dreams on fir-tree cones,
Green—the hedge, and brown—the field;
Mossy rifts in weathered stones
Meekly vernal waters yield.
Oh, look up the wooded steep—
God has touched it with his palm;
Piously wild berries weep,
Listening to the grassy psalm.
And I feel no fleshly tie;
And my heart's a springing mead.
Come, ye pilgrims white and shy,
Peck the early wheaten seed.
Tender evening twilight searches
Cottage windows, gabled byres,
And the leaves of slender birches
Glimmer soft as wedding fires.
- ↑ Tr. by Avrahm Yarmolinsky.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.
| Original: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929. The longest-living author of this work died in 1936, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 87 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse |
|---|---|
| Translation: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse |
