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Translated by J. S. Dwight
SEE the rocky spring, | |
| Clear as joy, | |
| Like a sweet star gleaming! | |
| O’er the clouds, he | |
| In his youth was cradled | 5 |
| By good spirits, | |
| ’Neath the bushes in the cliffs. | |
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| Fresh with youth, | |
| From the cloud he dances | |
| Down upon the rocky pavement; | 10 |
| Thence, exulting, | |
| Leaps to heaven. | |
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| For a while he dallies | |
| Round the summit, | |
| Through its little channels chasing | 15 |
| Motley pebbles round and round; | |
| Quick, then, like determined leader, | |
| Hurries all his brother streamlets | |
| Off with him. | |
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| There, all round him in the vale, | 20 |
| Flowers spring up beneath his footstep, | |
| And the meadow | |
| Wakes to feel his breath. | |
| But him holds no shady vale, | |
| No cool blossoms, | 25 |
| Which around his knees are clinging, | |
| And with loving eyes entreating | |
| Passing notice;—on he speeds | |
| Winding snake-like. | |
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| Social brooklets | 30 |
| Add their waters. Now he rolls | |
| O’er the plain in silvery splendor, | |
| And the plain his splendor borrows; | |
| And the rivulets from the plain, | |
| And the brooklets from the hillsides | 35 |
| All are shouting to him: Brother, | |
| Brother, take thy brothers too, | |
| Take us to thy ancient Father, | |
| To the everlasting ocean, | |
| Who e’en now with outstretched arms, | 40 |
| Waits for us,— | |
| Arms outstretched, alas! in vain | |
| To embrace his longing ones; | |
| For the greedy sand devours us, | |
| Or the burning sun above us | 45 |
| Sucks our life-blood; or some hillock | |
| Hems us into ponds. Ah! brother, | |
| Take thy brothers from the plain, | |
| Take thy brothers from the hillsides | |
| With thee, to our Sire with thee! | 50 |
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| Come ye all, then! | |
| Now, more proudly, | |
| On he swells; a countless race, they | |
| Bear their glorious prince aloft! | |
| On he rolls triumphantly, | 55 |
| Giving names to countries. Cities | |
| Spring to being ’neath his foot. | |
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| Onward, with incessant roaring, | |
| See! he passes proudly by | |
| Flaming turrets, marble mansions, | 60 |
| Creatures of his fulness all. | |
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| Cedar houses bears this Atlas | |
| On his giant shoulders. Rustling, | |
| Flapping in the playful breezes, | |
| Thousand flags about his head are | 65 |
| Telling of his majesty. | |
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| And so bears he all his brothers, | |
| And his treasures, and his children, | |
| To their Sire, all joyous roaring, | |
| Pressing to his mighty heart. | 70 |
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