|
|
The Cloud Messenger
FRAGMENTS FROM A LOST TRANSLATION
the hills of mist Golden, the dwelling place of Faery kings, And mansions by unearthly moonlight kissed: — For one dwells there whose brow with the young moon Lightens as with a marvellous amethyst —
*
Of Tripour slain in lovely dances joined And linked troops the Oreads of the hill Are singing and inspired with rushing wind Sweet is the noise of bamboos fluting shrill; Thou thundering in the mountain-glens with cry Of drums shouldst the sublime orchestra fill.
*
Dark like the cloudy foot of highest God When starting from the dwarf-shape world-immense With Titan-quelling step through heaven he strode.
*
For death and birth keep not their mystic round In Ullaca; there from the deathless trees The blossom lapses never to the ground But lives for ever garrulous with bees All honey-drunk — nor yet its sweets resign. For ever in their girdling companies. . . .
*
Page – 309 A flickering line of fireflies seen in sleep.
*
Her scarlet mouth is a ripe fruit and red.
*
Sole like a widowed bird when all the nests Are making.
Page – 310 |
|