Farewell, Aziz, it was not mine to fold you
Against my heart for any length of days.
I had no loveliness, alas, to hold you,
No siren voice, no charm that lovers praise.
Yet, in the midst of grief and desolation,
Solace I my despairing soul with this:
Once, for my life’s eternal consolation,
You lent my lips your loveliness to kiss.
Ah, that one night! I think Love’s very essence
Distilled itself from out my joy and pain,
Like tropical trees, whose fervid inflorescence
Glows, gleams, and dies, never to bloom again.
Often I marvel how I met the morning
With living eyes after that night with you,
Ah, how I cursed the wan, white light for dawning,
And mourned the paling stars, as each withdrew!
Yet I, even I, who am less than dust before you,
Less than the lowest lintel of your door,
Was given one breathless midnight, to adore you.
Fate, having granted this, can give no more!
A few random poems:
- Funny Networking Poem and Do’s and Don’ts
- Robert Burns: The Inventory: In answer to a mandate by the Surveyor of the Taxes
- Юргис Балтрушайтис – Соме le onde
- The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are Gone poem – John Keats poems
- Tidy by Ralph Angel
- The Sea Took Pity poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Queen Mab in the Village by Vachel Lindsay
- In Memory of W. B. Yeats by W. H. Auden
- Evenén in the Village by William Barnes
- victor.html
- Meditation on a Bone
- The Love Child by William Barnes
- Halls grew darker poem – Aleksandr Blok poems | Poetry Monster
- A Man, They Made a God by Walid Saba
- 我被包围了
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
- Sonnet 20: A woman’s face with Nature’s own hand painted by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 1: From fairest creatures we desire increase by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 19: Devouring Time blunt thou the lion’s paws by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 18: Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 152: In loving thee thou know’st I am forsworn by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 54: O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 53: What is your substance, whereof are you made by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 52: So am I as the rich whose blessèd key by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 51: Thus can my love excuse the slow offence by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 50: How heavy do I journey on the way by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 4: Unthrifty loveliness, why dost thou spend by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 49: Against that time, if ever that time come by William Shakespeare
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.