Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/123

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In the tall grasses, lowing amorous.
The thunder bursts within them, challenged thus.
Mad, blind with love, they paw, they stare, they spring;
And furious charges, their muzzles lowering;
Retire, and charge again. The ominous sound
Of crashing horns fills all the spaces round.

And long, I ween, the battle is, and dire.
The combatants are maddened by desire.
Puissant Love urges and goads them on.
So here, with either doughty champion.
'Twas Ourrias who received the first hard touch;
And, being threatened with another such,

Lifts his huge fist and lays young Vincen flat
As with a club. "There, urchin, parry that!"
"See if I have a scratch, man!" cried the lad.
The other, "Bastard, count the knocks you've had!"
"Count you the ounces of hot blood," he shouted,
"Monster, that from year flattened nose have spouted!"

And then they grapple; bend and stretch their best,
With foot to foot, shoulder to shoulder, prest.
Their arms are wreathed and coiled like supple snakes,
The veins are swelled to bursting in their necks,
The muscles of their calves tense with the strain.
Long time they stiff and motionless remain,