The Song of the Storm-Finch
From The Libertarian Labyrinth
The Song of the Storm-Finch<ref>From "Songs of Russia," rendered into English by Alice Stone Blackwell</ref>
By Maxim Gorky
- THE strong wind is gathering the storm-clouds together
- Above the gray plain of the ocean so wide.
- The storm-finch, the bird that resembles dark lightning.
- Between clouds and ocean is soaring in pride.
- Now skimming the waves with his wings, and now shooting
- Up, arrow-like, into the dark clouds on high,
- The storm-finch is clamoring loudly and shrilly;
- The clouds can hear joy in the bird's fearless cry.
- In that cry is the yearning, the thirst for the tempest,
- And anger's hot might in its wild notes is heard;
- The keen fire of passion, the faith in sure triumph—
- All these the clouds hear in the voice of the bird
- The storm-wind is howling, the thunder is roaring;
- With flame blue and lambent the cloud-masses glow
- O'er the fathomless ocean; it catches the lightnings.
- And quenches them deep in its whirlpool below.
- Like serpents of fire in the dark ocean writhing,
- The lightnings reflected there quiver and shake
- As into the blackness they vanish forever.
- The tempest! Now quickly the tempest will break!
- The storm-finch soars fearless and proud 'mid the lightnings,
- Above the wild waves that the roaring winds fret;
- And what is the prophet of victory saying?
- "Oh, let the storm burst! Fiercer yet—fiercer yet!"