Death and Famine on every side
And never a sign of rain,
The bones of those who have starved and died
Unburied upon the plain.
What care have I that the bones bleach white?
To-morrow they may be mine,
But I shall sleep in your arms to-night
And drink your lips like wine!
Cholera, Riot, and Sudden Death,
And the brave red blood set free,
The glazing eye and the failing breath,–
But what are these things to me?
Your breath is quick and your eyes are bright
And your blood is red like wine,
And I shall sleep in your arms to-night
And hold your lips with mine!
I hear the sound of a thousand tears,
Like softly pattering rain,
I see the fever, folly, and fears
Fulfilling man’s tale of pain.
But for the moment your star is bright,
I revel beneath its shine,
For I shall sleep in your arms to-night
And feel your lips on mine!
And you need not deem me over cold,
That I do not stop to think
For all the pleasure this Life may hold
Is on the Precipice brink.
Thought could but lessen my soul’s delight,
And to-day she may not pine.
For I shall lie in your arms to-night
And close your lips with mine!
I trust what sorrow the Fates may send
I may carry quietly through,
And pray for grace when I reach the end,
To die as a man should do.
To-day, at least, must be clear and bright,
Without a sorrowful sign,
Because I sleep in your arms to-night
And feel your lips on mine!
So on I work, in the blazing sun,
To bury what dead we may,
But glad, oh, glad, when the day is done
And the night falls round us grey.
Would those we covered away from sight
Had a rest as sweet as mine!
For I shall sleep in your arms to-night
And drink your lips like wine!

A few random poems:
- The Dance At Darmstadt poem – Alfred Austin
- Олег Бундур – В саду
- Woman In Front Of Poster Of Herself poem – Alice Notley
- Владимир Корнилов – Звезды
- Алексей Жемчужников – Знакомая картина
- Robert Burns: Written By Somebody On The Window Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.: Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.
- An Elegy On The Death Of A Mad Dog by Oliver Goldsmith
- Light by Rabindranath Tagore
- Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite by William Shakespeare
- The Fairies’ Siege by Rudyard Kipling
- Николай Гумилев – Зараза
- Letter In November by Sylvia Plath
- To Autumn poem – John Keats poems
- The Upas Tree poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Written In Early Youth. The Time,–An Autumnal Evening by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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
- Новелла Матвеева – Восток, прошедший чрез воображенье
- Новелла Матвеева – Ветер
- Новелла Матвеева – Величие?
- Новелла Матвеева – Василий Андреевич
- Новелла Матвеева – Страна Дельфиния
- Новелла Матвеева – Смех Фавна
- Новелла Матвеева – Река
- Новелла Матвеева – Пушкин
- Новелла Матвеева – Подсолнух
- Новелла Матвеева – Отражённым светом
- Новелла Матвеева – О юморе
- Новелла Матвеева – Набрела на правильную строчку
- Новелла Матвеева – Мне кажется
- Новелла Матвеева – Маяк
- Новелла Матвеева – Когда Вселенная открывает нам добровольно
- Новелла Матвеева – Иней
- Новелла Матвеева – Есть вопиющий быт, есть вещие примеры
- Новелла Матвеева – Двое (Баллада)
- Новелла Матвеева – Дома без крыш
- Новелла Матвеева – Будьте, как дети
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.