Death of the Bird

For every bird there is this last migration;

Once more the cooling year kindles her heart;

With a warm passage to the summer station

Love pricks the course in lights across the chart.

Year after year a speck on the map, divided

By a whole hemisphere, summons her to come;

Season after season, sure and safely guided,

Going away she is also coming home.

And being home, memory becomes a passion

With which she feeds her brood and straws her nest,

Aware of ghosts that haunt the heart’s possession

And exiled love mourning within the breast.

The sands are green with a mirage of valleys;

The palm tree casts a shadow not its own;

Down the long architrave of temple or palace

Blows a cool air from moorland scarps of stone.

And day by day the whisper of love grows stronger;

That delicate voice, more urgent with despair,

Custom and fear constraining her no longer,

Drives her at last on the waste leagues of air.

A vanishing speck in those inane dominions,

Single and frail, uncertain of her place,

Alone in the bright host of her companions,

Lost in the blue unfriendliness of space.

She feels it close now, the appointed season;

The invisible thread is broken as she flies;

Suddenly, without warning, without reason,

The guiding spark of instinct winks and dies.

Try as she will, the trackless world delivers

No way, the wilderness of light no sign;

Immense,complex contours of hills and rivers

Mock her small wisdom with their vast design.

The darkness rises from the eastern valleys,

And the winds buffet her with their hungry breath,

And the great earth, with neither grief nor malice,

Receives the tiny burden of her death.

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A few random poems:

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 

• When Lilacs Last in the Door-yard Bloom’d. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• When I read the Book. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• When I peruse the Conquer’d Fame. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• When I heard the Learn’d Astronomer. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• When I heard at the Close of the Day. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• What think You I take my Pen in Hand? by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• What Place is Besieged? by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• What General has a Good Army. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• What Best I See In Thee. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• What am I, After All? by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• We Two—How Long We were Fool’d. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• We Two Boys Together Clinging. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Visor’d. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• Turn, O Libertad. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• To You. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• To Thee, Old Cause! by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• To the Garden the World. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• To One Shortly to Die. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman
• To Him that was Crucified. by Walt Whitman by Walt Whitman

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

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.

 

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