Vyacheslav Ivanov (b. 1866)

CLEAR the fountain waters glowing,

Living streams, the well-springs flowing,

Cold, in darkling woods, a spring.

In the shed, cool stillness streaming,

O’er the well, a candle gleaming

On Christ’s crown its gilding flings.

In the Eden field—a bower,

And a fountain, and a flower.

Christ, star-voiced, the spirit stills:

“Come, before the well-spring stooping,

Of my quiet waters scooping,—

For the stintless bucket fills.”