Page:Satanella (1932).pdf/49



On the wall of crumbling bulwark

In a thoughtful meditation,

Satanella now is sitting

With her black hair loosely flying.

Round her shoulders merged the tresses

In a sea of dark-hued billows

Blending with the yellow grasses,

With the leaves of dark spread ivy.

Satanella thus was resting:

White bare limbs were freely dangling

O'er the wall among acacia's

Sweetly scented snow-white flowers.

Shaking with her every movement

Dewy pearls off the blossoms.

Long, long while she thus was sitting.

What she thought of, hard to fathom,

But a lengthy meditation

Was for her no pleasant duty.

Soon she shook her flowing tresses,

Upturned palms received her forehead,

And with smile upon her features

She gazed at the bluish mountains.