(Translated from the Hebrew by Alice Stone Blackwell.)
When from heaven's veil the morning Mute walks the prophet, full of bitter grief. star comes forth, The sun with golden rays illumes his Making her way 'twixt clouds with, way, dawn aflush, And on his head pours light and warmth And in the boundless height her fair light in floods. spreads, He looks not on the splendor of the day; While o'er the world yet reigns a solemn His heart is moved by utmost misery: hush,— He cannot tell it: “Dumb and silent be!” All eyes shut fast, earth wrapped in quiet sweet,— He cannot! All around are trickling tears, The prophet is awake, and walks the street! The tears of the oppressed, grown used to grief, Slowly he walks, musing with head down- Hated by fate, and by misfortune loved, bent, Who live in spirit, and whose days are His brows of wrinkles full, and sad his brief; face. Who in their own hot tears their bread His eyes are glowing like two coals of fire, must steep— But on his lips a tender smile has place; Their dry bread, earned with toil and 'Tis full of pity, full of sorrow mute. anguish deep. And black his garments are from head to foot. The prophet walks.—“The prophet is insane!” Silent the prophet walks. A wonderous Sometimes the wind brings to his ears day, this cry. A day of spring! It seems, divine repose “Senseless he is; he opes his mouth in Broods o'er the earth around; the sun vain!” darts fire, Thus speak among themselves the The tall trees wave their leaves, the passers-by, green grass grows; Who break the Lord’s commands, of shame- The roses all with dewy freshness gleam, less life, As if they had been bathing in the stream. Loving contention, calling out for strife. As it would breathe a secret to the earth, The prophet walks. But now and then he A soft and balmy wind is murmuring halts, low; And cries aloud, “Ye men of blood, woe, It clings to her with yearnings of a son. woe! Sometimes the green leaves flicker to How long will ye plot harm against the and fro, poor? And each to each in its own language says, How long will ye oppress the needy! “The world is beautiful and full of grace!” Lo,