The fountain murmured like an endless tale
  On her entrancing lips; and it would seem
As if God spake within the silent vale,
  And sleeping Earth were listening, in a dream.

Like blackened clouds, in Jorokh's stream arise
  Those rocks that through her savage waters pierce;
Like dragons twain, they glare with threatening eyes,
  Facing each other, arrogant and fierce.

Wild Jorokh through that fearsome valley flows--
  Flows like a caravan that onward sweeps;
First roaring loud, then hushed into repose,
  Groping its way through darkness, on it creeps.

The sounds of Earth are melted into rest,
  While strikes the hour of expectation deep;
Earth's waters heave, against each other pressed,
  And breathless listening, all their vigils keep.

Decked out like lovely brides stand all the flowers;
  With nuptial joy the forests trembling wait:
Until Heaven's blessing fall in sacred showers,
  And whispering softly, each may clasp its mate.