We have left Gul Kach behind us,
Are marching on Apozai,–
Where pleasure and rest are waiting
To welcome us by and by.
We’re falling back from the Gomal,
Across the Gir-dao plain,
The camping ground is deserted,
We’ll never come back again.
Along the rocks and the defiles,
The mules and the camels wind.
Good-bye to Rahimut-Ullah,
The man who is left behind.
For some we lost in the skirmish,
And some were killed in the fight,
But he was captured by fever,
In the sentry pit, at night.
A rifle shot had been swifter,
Less trouble a sabre thrust,
But his Fate decided fever,
And each man dies as he must.
Behind us, red in the distance.
The wavering flames rise high,
The flames of our burning grass-huts,
Against the black of the sky.
We hear the sound of the river,
An ever-lessening moan,
The hearts of us all turn backwards
To where he is left alone.
We sing up a little louder,
We know that we feel bereft,
We’re leaving the camp together,
And only one of us left.
The only one, out of many,
And each must come to his end,
I wish I could stop this singing,
He happened to be my friend.
We’re falling back from the Gomal
We’re marching on Apozai,
And pleasure and rest are waiting
To welcome us by and by.
Perhaps the feast will taste bitter,
The lips of the girls less kind,–
Because of Rahimut-Ullah,
The man who is left behind!

A few random poems:
- Владимир Корнилов – Место
- The Routine Things Around The House by Stephen Dunn
- Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare
- But I Was Looking At The Permanent Stars by Wilfred Owen
- I sink as I sail magnificently by Michael Nikoletseas
- A Song To Eleonora Duse In “Francesca da Rimini ” by Sara Teasdale
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Late Miss Burnet Of Monboddo :
- Torn Shades by Thomas Lux
- Lover’s Gifts XIII: Last Night in the Garden by Rabindranath Tagore
- Not Waving But Drowning by Stevie Smith
- The Scissors-Grinder by Vachel Lindsay
- Геннадий Айги – ЧИТАЯ НОРВИДА
- The Widow’s House by William Barnes
- What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said by Vachel Lindsay
- Анатолий Жигулин – Ах, речка, речка Тебердинка
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
- everything is a lie by tulip
- Dreaming of Li Po by Tu Fu
- Day’s End by Tu Fu
- Can You See The Pride In The Panther? by Tupac Shakur
- By the Lake by Tu Fu
- Ballad of the Old Cypress by Tu Fu
- Ballad of the Army Carts by Tu Fu
- Ballad Of The Press-Gang At Shihao Village by Du Fu
- Aphrodite – The Birth by Uma Maheswari Anandane
- Alone, Looking for Blossoms Along the River by Tu Fu
- Yet Gentle Will the Griffin Be by Vachel Lindsay
- Yankee Doodle by Vachel Lindsay
- Written for a Musician by Vachel Lindsay
- With a Bouquet of Twelve Roses by Vachel Lindsay
- Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket by Vachel Lindsay
- Who Knows? by Vachel Lindsay
- Where Is the Real Non-Resistant by Vachel Lindsay
- Where Is David, the Next King of Israel? by Vachel Lindsay
- When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich by Vachel Lindsay
- When Bryan Speaks by Vachel Lindsay
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
Violet Nicolson ( 1865 – 1904); otherwise known as Adela Florence Nicolson (née Cory), was an English poetess who wrote under the pseudonym of Laurence Hope, however she became known as Violet Nicolson. In the early 1900s, she became a best-selling author. She committed suicide and is buried in Madras, now Chennai, India.