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The nymph and the dryad
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The nymph and the dryad - Veronika Sizova
O, Stranger, have you ever been
To Fairyland, where things unseen
Unfold before your very eyes -
A mystery, a paradise
Among the quiet moors and flowers -
Behold the realm of magic powers.
You answer: "I have never seen
Such mysteries, except for dreams,
Where truth goes hand in hand with lies -
The mind wakes up before it dies."
Well, you may not believe a word,
Although the story must be told:
This legend, beautiful like snow,
Was born a thousand years ago.
Two creatures quaint: one thrives at night,
Her match is day's eternal bride.
One lives below the river deep,
The other drinks the nectar sweet
From every flower on her way.
Now, tell me, have you seen them?
- "Nay."
The spirits carried by the breeze
Remain, while their bodies cease
To roam along the earthly path,
Just when the mortal beings pass
By their Queendom made of glass -
Still imperceptible to us.
Nevertheless, their song I've heard:
In voices, lovelier than birds,
These maidens sing it to the trees
And to the ocean's cold abyss.
Sometimes, when you can't sleep at night,
A single ray, obscure, yet bright,
Leaves on your lips a gentle kiss -
The Nymph awakes amid the mist,
And, as the river hums nearby,
Sings you a tender lullaby.
When, in the morning, with a spark
A crocus opens, or a lark
Bathes its feathers in the dew -
The Dryad whispers rhymes to you.
These creatures seem alike, and yet,
The languid faeries never met.
It would have been a daunting task:
One wakes at dawn; her mate - at dusk.
One weaves long dresses from wild ferns;
Her rival hunts the depths for pearls.
Yet, once upon a summer's eve,
The Dryad felt an urge to leave
Her mellow forest, bittersweet -
And ventured out into the deep…
Orchidbriar
