Moored

Lord of the winds! I feel thee nigh;
I know thy breath in the burning sky!
And I wait with a thrill in every vein,
For the coming of the hurricane!
And lo! on the wings of the heavy gales,
Through the boundless arch of heaven he sails;
Silent and slow and terribly strong,
The mighty shadow is borne along,
Like the dark eternity to come;
While the world below, dismayed and dumb,
Through the calm of the thick hot atmosphere
Looks up at its gloomy folds with fear.


from The Hurricane, by Jose Maria Heredia, trans. by Willam Cullen Bryant