Page:May (Mácha, 1932).djvu/28

 While the wind plays with her snow-white gown. Now she stares in the distance dim— Then, brushing off a shining tear, She shades her eyes, as if to peer Into the far-off hazy brown, Where toward the lake the mountains lean, The waves reflect the sparkling sheen, And playful stars each other drown.

Just as a snow-white dove appears When flying 'neath a sunless cloud, Or as a water-lily proud The bluish surface domineers; Thusyonder where the mountains meet— Over the waters something fleet Approaches fast A moment bright, Then as a stork in a slow flight looms, No longer a dove or the lilies' blooms, Now a white sail rocks in the breeze.

A slender oar appears to tease The churning waters, forming rings. Each foaming ring an oar enslaves While borne from skies on gilded wings, Roses of gold ride on the waves. "A rapid boat it's near, it's near! It's he; his plumage, flowers, cloak!" The boat is fastened at the pier And up the winding mountain lane A sailor lightly guides his pace. Flushed, crimson now the maiden's face.