Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/215

] Under the pouring fire of the June sky, Like lightning doth Mirèio fly and fly. East, west, north, south, she seems to see extend One weary plain, savannas without end, With glimpses of the sea, and here and there Tamarisks lifting their light beads in air.

Golden-herb, samphire, shave-grase, soda,—these Alone grow on the bitter prairies, Where the black bulls in savage liberty Rejoice, where the white horses all are free To roam abroad and breast the briny gale, Or air surcharged with sea-fog to inhale.

But now o'er all the marsh, dazzling to view, Soars an immeasurable vault of blue, Intense, profound. The only living thing A solitary gull upon the wing Or a gaunt hermit,$3$ whose dark shadow falls Over the desert meres at intervals,

Or red-legged chevalier,$4$ or hern,$5$ wild-eyed With crest of three white plumes upraised in pride. But soon the sun so boats upon the plain That the poor, weary wanderer is fain To loose and lift her folded neckerchief, So from the burning heat to find relief.