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145
Vasily Bashkin

"UPON THE BLACK BROW OF A CLIFF"

Upon the black brow of a cliff where no life ever stirred
Alighted strong, hoary-winged eagles, grave bird upon
bird.

They whetted their claws on the stones, sitting massive
and grum,
And loudly they called on their lately-fledged comrades
to come.

Slow-measured and heavy the beat of their wings on the
skies,
Assuageless the rage that tempestuous burned in their eyes.

And each newly-come they acclaimed with the pride of the
peer:
"Hail, comrade! Delay not! The days we have longed
for are near."