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MODERN BOHEMIAN POETRY
61
Grey evening! Woe without an end!
My heart it stirred and bloodily did rend,
And in my eyes the tear-drops welled.
"The Sun in the Mists" (1901).
Karel Dostál-Lutinov (b. 1871).
THE SWANS
The swans, white as snow,
Have soared up on high;
They have gleamed, they have vanished
Awhile in the sky.
To the end of the earth
The swans have soared fleetly;
They have sung and grown silent,
Tenderly, sweetly!
They have sung as the sound
Of an organ that plays,
As when to Maria
The angels sing praise.
The swans have grown silent
At the end of the world,
As if my young years
Their wings had unfurled.
"The Roving Singer" (1902).
