The Forest

Wander through the solemn wood, Beneath the arches wrought of green, In shadows where the wild things brood, And all the world retreats unseen.

Here silence hangs in heavy air, Each step unravels a gentle sigh; The ancient trees, their branches bare, Stand witness as the seasons fly.

Moss and ferns their carpets spread, Where whispers weave a tale of time, In every rustle, life is fed, And nature sings in perfect rhyme.

So linger here among the trees, Let heart and spirit intertwine; In this secluded place, find ease, A solace lost to thought divine.

• Valery Briussov