«Through the slush and the ruts of the highway. / By the side of the dam of the stream. / Where the fishermen’s nets are a-drying, / The carriage jogs on, and I dream. I dream, and I look at the highway. / At the sky that is sullen and grey, / At the lake with its shelving reaches, / A...»
«The sun on the steppes is sinking, / And gold is the distant grass. / The convicts’ fetters are clinking / On the dusty road as they pass. They march, with heads closely shaven. / With heavy steps onward go. / Grief on their brows engraven / And doubt in their hearts below. They marc...»
«Storm in the skies in the evening. / Noise of the wrath of the sea; / Storm on the sea, and the thronging / Thoughts that are torture to me; Storm on the sea, and insurgent / Thoughts that are clamorous in me, / Cloud after cloud flying blackly. / Noise of the wrath of the sea.»
«What an evening! Streamlets run. / Banks are breaking, / Nightingales in set of sun / Music making. Moonbeams from on high invade, / Flood the fallows; / In the gully willows’ shade, / Gleam of shallows. There’s an old leak in the weir. / Planks ...»