I
In from the night.
The storm is lifting his black arms up to the sky.
Friend of my heart, who so gently marks out the lifetrack for me, draw near to-night;
Forget the wailing of the low-voiced wind:
Shut out the moanings of the freezing, and the starving, and the dying, and bend your head low to me:
Clasp my cold, cold hands in yours;
Think of me tenderly and lovingly:
Look down into my eyes the while I question you, and if you love me, answer me-
Oh, answer me!
II
Is there not a gleam of Peace on all this tiresome earth?
Does not one oasis cheer all this desert-world?
When will all this toil and pain bring me the blessing?
Must I ever plead for help to do the work before me set?
Must I ever stumble and faint by the dark wayside?
Oh the dark, lonely wayside, with its dim-sheeted ghosts peering up through their shallow graves!
Must I ever tremble and pale at the great Beyond?
Must I find Rest only in your bosom, as now I do?
Answer me-
Oh, answer me!
III
Speak to me tenderly.
Think of me lovingly.
Let your soft hands smooth back my hair.
Take my cold, tear-stained face up to yours.
Let my lonely life creep into your warm bosom, knowing no other rest but this.
Let me question you, while sweet Faith and Trust are folding their white robes around me.
Thus am I purified, even to your love, that came like John the Baptist in the Wilderness of Sin.
You read the starry heavens, and lead me forth.
But tell me if, in this world’s Judea, there comes never quiet when once the heart awakes?
Why must it ever hush Love back?
Must it only labor, strive, and ache?
Has it no reward but this?
Has it no inheritance but to bear-and break?
Answer me-
Oh, answer me!
IV
The Storm struggles with the Darkness.
Folded away in your arms, how little do I heed their battle!
The trees clash in vain their naked swords against the door.
I go not forth while the low murmur of your voice is drifting all else back to silence.
The darkness presses his black forehead close to the window pane, and beckons me without.
Love holds a lamp in this little room that hath power to blot back Fear.
But will the lamp ever starve for oil?
Will its blood-red flame ever grow faint and blue?
Will it uprear itself to a slender line of light?
Will it grow pallid and motionless?
Will it sink rayless to everlasting death?
Answer me-
Oh, answer me!
V
Look at these tear-drops.
See how they quiver and die on your open hands.
Fold these white garments close to my breast, while I question you.
Would you have me think that from the warm shelter of your heart I must go to the grave?
And when I am lying in my silent shroud, will you love me?
When I am buried down in the cold, wet earth, will you grieve that you did not save me?
Will your tears reach my pale face through all the withered leaves that will heap themselves upon my grave?
Will you repent that you loosened your arms to let me fall so deep, and so far out of sight?
Will you come and tell me so, when the coffin has shut out the storm?
Answer me-
Oh, answer me!
A few random poems:
- Tale of the Pope and of His Workman Balda
- Владимир Маяковский – Небесный чердак
- The Birth Of Love by William Wordsworth
- Владимир Маяковский – Профсоюзы – производства рычаг… (Главполитпросвет №10)
- Archaic Torso Of Apollo by Rainer Maria Rilke
- Robert Burns: Sic A Wife As Willie Had:
- Иван Варавва – В закубанском лесу
- let us go with no care by Raj Arumugam
- Attempted Assassination of the Queen by William Topaz McGonagall
- CLAUDIAN’S OLD MAN OF VERONA by Abraham Cowley
- Ольга Седакова – Болезнь
- Владимир Маяковский – Даешь тухлые яйца
- Степан Щипачев – Тебе
- Our Singing Strength by Robert Frost
- Николай Языков – Поэт (Радушно рабствует поэту)
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- England! The Time Is Come When Thou Should’st Wean by William Wordsworth
- Emperors And Kings, How Oft Have Temples Rung by William Wordsworth
- Ellen Irwin Or The Braes Of Kirtle by William Wordsworth
- Elegiac Stanzas Suggested By A Picture Of Peele Castle by William Wordsworth
- Dion [See Plutarch] by William Wordsworth
- Crusaders by William Wordsworth
- Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra by William Wordsworth
- Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed on The Eve Of The Marriage Of A Friend In The Vale Of Grasmere by William Wordsworth
- Composed Near Calais, On The Road Leading To Ardres, August 7, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed In The Valley Near Dover, On The Day Of Landing by William Wordsworth
- Composed During A Storm by William Wordsworth
- Composed By The Side Of Grasmere Lake 1806 by William Wordsworth
- Composed By The Sea-Side, Near Calais, August 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed At The Same Time And On The Same Occasion by William Wordsworth
- Composed After A Journey Across The Hambleton Hills, Yorkshire by William Wordsworth
- Characteristics Of A Child Three Years Old by William Wordsworth
- Character Of The Happy Warrior by William Wordsworth
- Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel. by William Wordsworth
- “Call Not The Royal Swede Unfortunate” by William Wordsworth
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works

Adah Isaacs Menken (1835 – 1868) was an American actress and a performer, who painted painter and wrote a number of poems (31 published so far). She was supposedly the highest earning actress of her time. She was best known for her performance in the hippodrama Mazeppa (with libretto based on Pushkin’s work), it is said that the climax of the spectacle featured her apparently nude and riding a horse on stage. After great success for a few years with the play in New York and San Francisco, she appeared in a production in London and Paris, from 1864 to 1866. She was a friend of Alexander Dumas. Adah Menken died in Paris at the age of 33