Valery Bryusov

The sea -- in a peace, long and lethal --
The movement -- as if vaporized.
The sea -- as if, made from cast metal,
A mirror of purified skies.

The stones, in hardness of doze,
The shores, by repose enslaved, --
Dream of the daring and joyous,
Honey and sour wave.


Translated by Yevgeny Bonver, September, 2000