Page:Mistral - Mirèio. A Provençal poem.djvu/68

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"But, round about the roots, once every year
The neighboring stream comes gushing, as I hear;
And the shrub drinks the water as it rises,
And that one drink for the whole year suffices.
Even as the gem is cut to fit the ring,
This parable to us is answering.

"I am the fig-tree on the barren mountain;
And thou, mine own, art the reviving fountain!
Surely it would suffice me, could I feel
That, once a year, I might before thee kneel,
And sun myself in thy sweet face, and lay
My lips unto thy fingers, as to-day!"

Trembling with love, Mirèio hears him speak,
And lets him wind his arms about her neck
And clasp her as bewildered. Suddenly,
Through the green walk, quavers an old wife's cry:
"How now, Mirèio? Are you coming soon?
What will the silk-worms have to eat at noon?"

As oft times, at the coming on of night,
A flock of sparrows on a pine alight
And fill the air with joyous chirruping,
Yet, if a passing gleaner pause and fling
A stone that way, they to the neighboring wood,
By terror winged, their instant flight make good;