Page:Modern Russian Poetry.djvu/129

Rh

Your soul, born deaf and blind, inhabits Jungles of sunless reverie, Where with the crash of trampled saplings Wild droves of dark desires roam free.

A torch I kindled in the darkness To lead you to my starry gate, With seeds of light in shining handfuls The furrows of your night to sate.

I stand amid the trackless stretches And hail you in the wilderness; But lost in dark and dreary caverns My cry sinks silent, answerless.