I arise and go down to the River, and currents that come from the sea,
Still fresh with the salt of the ocean, are lovely and precious to me,
The waters are silver and silent, except where the kingfisher dips,
Or the ripples wash off from my shoulder the reddening stain of thy lips.
Two things make my joy at this moment: thy gold-coloured beauty by night,
And the delicate charm of the River, all pale in the day-breaking light,
So cool are the waters’ caresses. Ah, which is the lovelier,–this?
Or the fire that it kindles at midnight, beneath the soft glow of thy kiss?
Ah, Love has a mighty dominion, he forges with passionate breath
The links which stretch out to the Future, with forces of life and of death,
But great is the charm of the River, so soft is the sigh of the reeds,
They give me, long sleepless from passion, the peace that my weariness needs.
I float on the breast of my River, and startle the birds on the edge,
To land on a newly found island, a boat that is caught in the sedge,
The rays of the sun are still level, not yet has the heat of the day
Deflowered the mists of the morning, that linger in delicate grey.
What land was his dwelling whose fancy first gave unto Paradise birth?
He never had swum in my River, or else he had fixed it on earth!
Oh, grace of the palm-tree reflections, Oh, sense of the wind from the sea!
Oh, divine and serene exultation of one who is lonely and free!
Ah, delicate breezes of daybreak, so scentless, refreshing and free!
And yet–had my midnight been lonely you had been less lovely to me.
This coolness comes laden with solace, because I am hot from the fire,
As often devotion to virtue arises from sated desire.
_Gautama came forth from his Palace; he felt the night wind on his face,_
_He loathed, as he left, the embraces, the softness and scent of the place,_
_But, ah, if his night had been loveless, with no one to solace his need,_
_He never had written that sermon which men so devotedly read._
Ah, River, thy gentle persuasion! I doubt if I seek any more
The beauty that hurts me and holds me beneath the low roof on the shore.
I loved thee, ay, loved–for a season, but thou, was it love or desire,
The glow of the Sun in his glory, or only the heat of a fire?
I think not that thou wilt regret me, for thou art too joyous and fair,
So many are keen to caress thee, thy passionate midnights to share.
Thou wilt not have time to remember, before a new love-knot is tied,
The stranger who loved thee and left thee, who drifted away on the tide.
Two things I have found that are lovely, though most things are sullen and grey;
One: Peace–but what mortal has found him; and Passion–but when would he stay?
So I shall return to my River, and floating at ease on its breast,
Shall find, what Love never has given–a sense of most infinite rest.
When the years have gone by and departed, what thought shall I keep of this land?
A curl of thy waist-reaching-tresses? a flower received from thy hand?
Nay, if I can fathom the future, I fancy my relic will be
Some shell, my beloved one, the River, has stol’n from the store of the sea.
A few random poems:
- Impromptu: To Frances Garnet Wolseley poem – Alfred Austin
- Жан де Лафонтен – Голубь и Муравей
- Иван Киуру – Ершок с вершок
- Sakal Bun poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Николай Заболоцкий – Разговор с медведем
- To R. B. poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Amabel by Thomas Hardy
- English Poetry. Madison Julius Cawein. Evasion. Мэдисон Джулиус Кавейн.
- On Returning To England poem – Alfred Austin
- Burns’s Statue At Irvine poem – Alfred Austin
- Николай Заболоцкий – Обед
- Spring Rain by Sara Teasdale
- New York’s Bad Dream by Matthew Abuelo
- Robert Burns: Mally’s Meek, Mally’s Sweet:
- Song—Auld Rob Morris by Robert Burns
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
- In Token Of The Love You Gave by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- I shall not be a shame by Torm Gardson
- I Make My bed Of Roses by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Henry Clay’s Mouth by Thomas Lux
- He Has Lived In Many Houses by Thomas Lux
- Gorgeous Surfaces by Thomas Lux
- Gentle Heart, Indulge Thy Dreaming by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Death of the Legend by Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon
- A Little Tooth by Thomas Lux
- A Library Of Skulls by Thomas Lux
- A Lady Aurum by Thriveni Mysore
- A Kiss by Thomas Lux
- “While with fond rapture and amaze” by Tobias Smollett
- Verses On A Young Lady (playing harpsichord, and singing) by Tobias Smollett
- Verses On A Young Lady (playing harpsichord, and singing) by Tobias Smollett
- To Mirth by Tobias Smollett
- To Independence by Tobias Smollett
- “To fix her!-’twere a task as vain” by Tobias Smollett
- The Tears of Scotland by Tobias Smollett
- The Tears of Scotland by Tobias Smollett
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.