HERMES OF THE WAYS
IThe hard sand breaks,And the grains of itAre clear as wine.Far off over the leagues of it,The wind,Playing on the wide shore,Piles little ridges,And the great wavesBreak over it.But more than the many-foamed waysOf the sea,I know himOf the triple path-ways,Hermes,Who awaiteth.Dubious,Facing three ways,Welcoming wayfarers,He whom the sea-orchardShelters from the west,From the eastWeathers sea-wind;Fronts the great dunes.Wind rushesOver the dunes,And the coarse, salt-crusted grassAnswers.Heu,It whips round my ankles!IISmall isThis white stream,Flowing below groundFrom the poplar-shaded hill,But the water is sweet.Apples on the small treesAre hard,Too small,Too late ripenedBy a desperate sunThat struggles through sea-mist.The boughs of the treesAre twistedBy many bafflings;Twisted areThe small-leafed boughs.But the shadow of themIs not the shadow of the mast headNor of the torn sails.Hermes, Hermes,The great sea foamed,Gnashed its teeth about me;But you have waited,Where sea-grass tangles withShore-grass.H. D.
IThe hard sand breaks,And the grains of itAre clear as wine.Far off over the leagues of it,The wind,Playing on the wide shore,Piles little ridges,And the great wavesBreak over it.But more than the many-foamed waysOf the sea,I know himOf the triple path-ways,Hermes,Who awaiteth.Dubious,Facing three ways,Welcoming wayfarers,He whom the sea-orchardShelters from the west,From the eastWeathers sea-wind;Fronts the great dunes.Wind rushesOver the dunes,And the coarse, salt-crusted grassAnswers.Heu,It whips round my ankles!IISmall isThis white stream,Flowing below groundFrom the poplar-shaded hill,But the water is sweet.Apples on the small treesAre hard,Too small,Too late ripenedBy a desperate sunThat struggles through sea-mist.The boughs of the treesAre twistedBy many bafflings;Twisted areThe small-leafed boughs.But the shadow of themIs not the shadow of the mast headNor of the torn sails.Hermes, Hermes,The great sea foamed,Gnashed its teeth about me;But you have waited,Where sea-grass tangles withShore-grass.H. D.
I
I
The hard sand breaks,And the grains of itAre clear as wine.
The hard sand breaks,
And the grains of it
Are clear as wine.
Far off over the leagues of it,The wind,Playing on the wide shore,Piles little ridges,And the great wavesBreak over it.
Far off over the leagues of it,
The wind,
Playing on the wide shore,
Piles little ridges,
And the great waves
Break over it.
But more than the many-foamed waysOf the sea,I know himOf the triple path-ways,Hermes,Who awaiteth.
But more than the many-foamed ways
Of the sea,
I know him
Of the triple path-ways,
Hermes,
Who awaiteth.
Dubious,Facing three ways,Welcoming wayfarers,He whom the sea-orchardShelters from the west,From the eastWeathers sea-wind;Fronts the great dunes.
Dubious,
Facing three ways,
Welcoming wayfarers,
He whom the sea-orchard
Shelters from the west,
From the east
Weathers sea-wind;
Fronts the great dunes.
Wind rushesOver the dunes,And the coarse, salt-crusted grassAnswers.
Wind rushes
Over the dunes,
And the coarse, salt-crusted grass
Answers.
Heu,It whips round my ankles!
Heu,
It whips round my ankles!
II
II
Small isThis white stream,Flowing below groundFrom the poplar-shaded hill,But the water is sweet.
Small is
This white stream,
Flowing below ground
From the poplar-shaded hill,
But the water is sweet.
Apples on the small treesAre hard,Too small,Too late ripenedBy a desperate sunThat struggles through sea-mist.
Apples on the small trees
Are hard,
Too small,
Too late ripened
By a desperate sun
That struggles through sea-mist.
The boughs of the treesAre twistedBy many bafflings;Twisted areThe small-leafed boughs.But the shadow of themIs not the shadow of the mast headNor of the torn sails.
The boughs of the trees
Are twisted
By many bafflings;
Twisted are
The small-leafed boughs.
But the shadow of them
Is not the shadow of the mast head
Nor of the torn sails.
Hermes, Hermes,The great sea foamed,Gnashed its teeth about me;But you have waited,Where sea-grass tangles withShore-grass.
Hermes, Hermes,
The great sea foamed,
Gnashed its teeth about me;
But you have waited,
Where sea-grass tangles with
Shore-grass.
H. D.
H. D.