I want to force from the mirror,
Where there is murk and a misting dream—
Where the path lies for You
And where is the haven.

I see: the mast of a ship,
And You—at the deck . . .
You—in the smoke of a train . . . A field
In the evening plaint . . .

Evening fields in the dew,
Above them—ravens . . .
—I bless You to all
The four regions!

May 3, 1915
(from Woman Friend, written for Parnok)