Her loosened tresses floated all unbound
And veiled her form around.
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.