water like islands. From the shore a melancholy song is heard:

"Oh, o-o-o, once more!"

The steamer passes many rafts, splashing them with waves. The
beams are in continual motion under the blows of the waves; the
men on the rafts in blue shirts, staggering, look at the steamer
and laugh and shout something. The big, beautiful vessel goes
sidewise on the river; the yellow scantlings with which it is
loaded sparkle like gold and are dimly reflected in the muddy,
vernal water. A passenger steamer comes from the opposite side
and whistles--the resounding echo of the whistle loses itself in
the woods, in the gorges of the mountainous bank, and dies away
there. In the middle of the river the waves stirred up by the two
vessels strike against one another and splash against the
steamers' sides, and the vessels are rocked upon the water. On
the slope of the mountainous bank are verdant carpets of winter
corn, brown strips of fallow ground and black strips of ground
tilled for spring corn. Birds, like little dots, soar over them,
and are clearly seen in the blue canopy of the sky; nearby a
flock is grazing; in the distance they look like children's toys;
the small figure of the shepherd stands leaning on a staff, and
looks at the river.

The glare of the water-- freedom and liberty are everywhere, the
meadows are cheerfully verdant and the blue sky is tenderly
clear; a restrained power is felt in the quiet motion of the
water; above it the generous May sun is shining, the air is
filled with the exquisite odour of fir trees and of fresh
foliage. And the banks keep on meeting them, caressing the eyes