An Evening on a Small Island Poem by Aleksa Santic

The vast blue deep
Is asleep;
Cool and quiet, falls the night.
Atop dark rocks, dying fast,
The last
Crimson ray of sunset light.

The church bell tolls;
Its trembling tones
Over craggy hills resound.
With sighs of endless
Sadness,
Poor folks are prayer-bound.

Skeletal and grey,
They pray
On knees before their God,
But no word
Is heard
From the crucified Lord.

The nearing repose
Is close;
Cool and quiet, falls the night;
Atop dark rocks, dying fast,
The last
Crimson ray of sunset light.

(Translated by Milomir Ilic)