Hayyim nahman bialik poems

When high noon on a summer’s day
makes the sky a fiery furnace
and the heart seeks a quiet corner for dreams,
then come to me, my weary friend.
...

Proceed thence to the ruins, the split walls reach,
Where wider grows the hollow, and greater grows the breach;
...

Neither daylight nor the darkness
See how silently I wander.
Not on mountain, nor in valley,
Does an old acacia ponder.
...

Summer is dying in the purple and gold and russet
of the falling leaves of the wood,
and the sunset clouds are dying
in their own blood.
...

Wi