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Vasily Bashkin
145
"UPON THE BLACK BROW OF A CLIFF"
Upon the black brow of a cliff where no life ever stirred
Alighted strong, hoary-winged eagles, grave bird upon bird.
They whetted their claws on the stones, sitting massive and grum,
And loudly they called on their lately-fledged comrades to come.
Slow-measured and heavy the beat of their wings on the skies,
Assuageless the rage that tempestuous burned in their eyes.
And each newly-come they acclaimed with the pride of the peer:
"Hail, comrade! Delay not! The days we have longed for are near."
