Marya Zaturensky

From “Spinners”

Lower New York City at noon hour

THERE is a noise, and then the crowded herd

Of noon-time workers flows into the street.

My soul, bewildered and without retreat,

Closes its wings and shrinks, a frightened bird.

Oh, I have known a peace, once I have known

The joy that could have touched a heart of stone—

The heart of holy Russia beating still,

Over a snow-cold steppe and on a hill:

One day in Kiev I heard a great church-bell

Crying a strange farewell.

And once in a great field, the reapers sowing

Barley and wheat, I saw a great light growing

Over the weary bowed heads of the reapers;

As growing sweeter, stranger, ever deeper,

From the long waters sorrowfully strong,

Came the last echoes of the River Song!

Here in this alien crowd I walk apart

Clasping remembered beauty to my heart!