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Maxim Gorky:
Song of the Stormy
Petrel (1901)
High above the silvery ocean winds are
gathering the storm-clouds, and between the clouds and ocean
proudly wheels the Stormy Petrel, like a streak of sable
lightning.
Now his wing the wave caresses, now he
rises like an arrow, cleaving clouds and crying fiercely,
while the clouds detect a rapture in the bird's courageous
crying.
In that crying sounds a craving for the
tempest! Sounds the flaming of his passion, of his anger, of
his confidence in triumph.
The gulls are moaning in their
terror--moaning, darting o'er the waters, and would gladly
hide their horror in the inky depths of ocean.
And the grebes are also moaning. Not for
them the nameless rapture of the struggle. They are frightened
by the crashing of the thunder.
And the foolish penguins cower in the
crevices of rocks, while alone the Stormy Petrel proudly
wheels above the ocean, o'er the silver-frothing waters.
Ever lower, ever blacker, sink the
stormclouds to the sea, and the singing waves are mounting in
their yearning toward the thunder.
Strikes the thunder. Now the waters
fiercely battle with the winds. And the winds in fury seize
them in unbreakable embrace, hurtling down the emerald masses
to be shattered on the cliffs.
Like a streak of sable lightning wheels and
cries the Stormy Petrel, piercing storm-clouds like an arrow,
cutting swiftly through the waters.
He is coursing like a Demon, the black
Demon of the tempest, ever laughing, ever sobbing--he is
laughing at the storm-clouds, he is sobbing with his rapture.
In the crashing of the thunder the wise
Demon hears a murmur of exhaustion. And he is knows the strom
will die and the sun will be triumphant; the sun will always
be triumphant!
The waters roar. The thunder crashes. Livid
lightning flares in stormclouds high above the seething ocean,
and the flaming darts are captured and extinguished by the
waters, while the serpentine reflections writhe, expiring, in
the deep.
It's the storm! The storm is breaking!
Still the valiant Stormy Petrel proudly
wheels amond the lightning, o'er the roaring, raging ocean,
and his cry resounds exultant, like a prophecy of triumph -
Let it break in all its fury! |