Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/159

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While yonder, through the deep of limpid water,
Darted at intervals the dark brown otter,
Following the silver-flashing fish. Among
The reeds and willows, pendulines had hung
Their tiny nests, white woven with the wool
Plucked from the poplar when its flowers are full.

And here the small things fluttered full of glee,
Or swang on wind-rocked stems light lazily.
Here, too, a sprightly lassie, golden-haired,—
Head like a crown-cake!²—back and forward fared,
And spread on a fig-tree a fishing-net
Unwieldy and with water dripping yet.

Birds, beavers, otters, feared the maid no more
Than whispering reeds or willows of the shore.
This was the daughter of the basket-weaver,
The little Vinceneto. No one ever
Had even bored her ears, poor child! yet so
Her eyes were damson-blue, her bosom low,—

A caper-blossom by the river-side,
Wooed by the splashing of the amorous tide.
But now old Ambroi, with his long white beard
Flowing o'er all his breast, his head upreared,
And answered Vincen's outcry: "What is 't? Mad?
You are a blockhead! that is all, my lad!"