As ocean’s stream girdles the ball of earth,
From circling seas of dream man’s life emerges,
And as night moves in silence up the firth
The secret tide around our mainland surges.
The voice of urgent waters softly sounds;
The magic skiff uplifts white wings of wonder.
The tide swells swiftly and the white sail rounds,
Where the blind waves in shoreless darkness thunder.
And the wide heavens, starred and luminous,
Out of the deep in mystery aspire.
The strange abyss is burning under us;
And we sail onward, and our wake is fire.
Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev (1803–1873) Russia
Translated by Avrahm Yarmolinsky and Cecil Cowdrey
Source: Modern Russian Poetry. Compiled and translated by Babette Deutsch and Avrahm Yarmolinsky. New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1921
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