20

"The forest edge I reached when day
The orbs of night had with its ray
Dispersed.... The slumbering wood awoke
And rustled softly.... Wisps of smoke
Rose in the distance where the lone
Roofs of a hamlet showed.... The moan
Of wind now reached me, and, of tone
Harsh, a familiar sound.... I sat
And listened.... It was faint, and at
That moment, fainter growing, died....
Around me stretched a countryside
I seemed to recognise.... Oh no!
It could not be - had fate a blow
So cruel delivered?... From my dread
And hated prison had I fled
But to return to it again?
For long, long years, a slave, to pine
For blessed freedom, and then this -
A passing glimpse, a taste of bliss,
And after that, beyond recall,
The grave, and, in it buried, all
My longing for my motherland,
My dreams betrayed and broken, and,
Tinged with both anguish and remorse,
The shame of pity such as yours!...
And still to doubt I clung and fought
The voice of truth till my ear caught
Anew the tolling of a bell,
A sound I knew, alas, too well!
From early childhood had that dull
Clanging destroyed the beautiful
Visions that came at times to me
Of my lost home and family,
Of steppeland free, of fiery steeds,
Of valiant and heroic deeds
Performed, and wondrous battles on
Steep mountain pathways waged and won
By me alone!... Deep, deep within
Me did the belt sound.... Weak of limb
It left me, and bereft of tears:
Was not a hand of iron, fierce,
At my heart pounding without end?...
Twas then that I did comprehend
That what I craved was not to be,
That ne'er would I my birthplace see.

              21

"Deserve I do my lot, I know....
A steed in alien steppe will throw
His clumsy rider, and, though mute,
Of instinct sure, the shortest route
Find to his stall.... Beside him what
Am I? I suffer but cannot
My plight, that does so irk me, change;
My dreams are futile and of strange
Delusions born, the undefined
And frenzied longing of the mind... .
My prison had on me its mark
Left: like a plant that in a dark
Cell springs to life, so was I; lone
And sapless, 'twixt two slabs of stone
It slowly sprouts, not daring to
Spread its young leaves, and, pale of hue,
Waits for the sun.... Its grief does move
The hand of pity to remove
It to a garden from the gloom
Of dank and murky cell; flowers bloom
About it, all is bliss and cheer
And sweetness.... But our prisoner
Cannot survive, and with the rise
Of dawn, 'tis scorched by sun and dies!

              22


"Like that poor plant burnt was I by
The merciless, stinging sunlight. My
Head vainly did I strive to hide
Beneath the grasses: parched and dried
Their leaves were, and a kind of crown
Of thorns formed that sat strangely on
My aching brow.... Into my face
The ground breathed fire. Such was the blaze
And heat of day that bright sparks spun
High up above me, and the sun
Thin shreds of vapour forced the white
Cliffs to give off. All within sight
Lay torpid in the blinding glare:
The heavy sleep of blank despair
God's world bound fast. Not e'en the cry
Of land rail, nor the tiny, dry
Whirr of the gauze-winged dragonfly.
Nor yet the babbling of a brook
The quiet broke.... From its dark nook
A snake emerged; the zigzags on
Its gleaming yellow back made one
Think of a blade with lettering
Of gold adorned.... Into a ring,
A triple one, it coiled, and stayed
A while thus, bland and undismayed;
Then, as if stung by flame, a start
Gave and began to leap and dart
About in wild and frenzied play....

              23

"The skies were tranquil.... Far away
Two hills showed black where they the veil
Of haze had pierced; like furbished mail
Behind them shone the turrets tall
Of this old cloister and its wall,
While far below, round isles of green,
The two twin streams snaked, with a gleam
Like that of silver.... I could see
Them flowing lightly, rapidly
O'er naked roots and onward run....
I tried to rise - around me spun
The world; I tried to speak - my tongue
Went dry and to my palate clung.
Doomed was I! As the minutes passed,
I knew that gruesome Death had cast
O'er me its shadow; overcome
Was I by dark delirium,
And on the bottom seemed to rest
Of some deep stream. The waves caressed
My face and hands, and o'er me rolled,
And quenched my burning thirst. As cold
The water was as ice and pure....
If but this moment could endure,
I told myself, this calm, this peace,
If only sleep would not drive these
Fond dreams away!... The light that through
The water seeped as soft and blue
And tender as the moon's became,
The harsh beams turning strangely tame
And mellow.... Near me, to and fro,
Bright fish did flit and fairly glow
With colour.... Silent and entranced,
I watched them. One fish frisked and danced
Just o'er my head. Fine scales of gold
Did cover it.... Against me, bold,
Now and again it brushed in play
And did its friendliness display
In like frank way. Its gaze met mine,
And, lo! - its silvery voice and thin
In song it raised. Full of content
I listened to't, and wonderment:
A strange song 'twas, and tinged with pain,
Now 'twould break off, now start again....

               * * *
'Come, stay with me, it went, and you'll
     Regret it not, my dear.
Calm are these watery wastes and cool,
     In freedom live we here.

               * * *
'We'll dance, my sisters fair and I,
      A gay dance for a start,
And drive the sadness from your eye,
      The darkness from your heart.

               * * *
'Sleep, dear one! Soft and downy is
      Your bed of sand and grass.
The fleeting, years and centuries
      In dulcet dreams will pass.

               * * *
'love you, love, the way I do
      These rolling waves and free.
As precious and as dear are you
      As life itself to me.

I listened patiently and long:
The water's murmur with the song
Sung by the goldfish seemed to blend....
Then, without warning, to an end
Came these odd dreams, the light of noon
Faded away, and in a swoon,
Oblivious to all, I lay....

                 24

"Twas there they found me.... I will say
No more, you know the rest. If you,
Whose sympathy I need not woo,
Believe me not, 'tis all the same
To me, but sorely grieved I am
By one thing: that my body will
In alien soil lie, cold and still,
That words writ by some stranger on
My grave will wake response in none,
And that to my dark fate and name
All will indifferent remain.

                 25

"Adieu!... Our parting let us seal
With hand-clasp, Father. Can you feel
How hot my hand is and how dry?...
Know this: a fire has e'er in my
Breast lurked from youth, and in its greed
Devoured its captor - flesh, and freed
The spirit that must soon return
To one who does mete out, in turn,
To each of us, now pain, now peace....
But think not that I seek release
From worldly chains, my old friend - Nay!
Exchange I would for one short day,
For less, for but one hour amid
The jagged rocks where play I did,
A child, if 'twere but offered me,
Both Heaven and eternity!...

                26

"When comes my end, for which to wait
Not long remains, for so has fate
Ordained, pray, have me taken to
The garden, to the spot where two
Acacia bushes grow, and lush
The grass is, and with golden brush
The sun the leaves tints, and the air
Is clear and heady.... Place me there,
Beneath that blue and boundless sky,
So that I may before I die
My eyes feast on the luminous,
Light-nourished day.... The Caucasus
From that spot can be seen, and will
Send me their last farewell, the chill
Breeze using for a messenger,
And my heart with the dear sounds stir
Of home, and make me think that by
My side my brother, as I lie
There quietly, or else an old
And trusted friend sits, and the cold
Drops patient wiping from my face,
In hushed tones sings a song of praise
To our dear homeland, his and mine....
With thought of it I'll sleep, and in
The moment 'fore oblivion
Curse no man and disparage none!"

             * * * * *