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:
- Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Так говорил танкистам политрук
- So Long! by Precious Tahula
- Meeting at an Airport by Taha Muhammad Ali
- Storm and Sunlight by Siegfried Sassoon
- Владимир Бенедиктов – К женщине
- Mule Song poem – A. R. Ammons poems | Poetry Monster
- Captain Hook by Shel Silverstein
- The Innocent Ill
- How I Walked Alone in the Jungles of Heaven by Vachel Lindsay
- The Magic by Preeth Nambiar
- The Beginning of the End by Rixa White
- Lament For The Two Brothers Slain By Each Others Hand
- A November Night by Sara Teasdale
- Grand Slam Night poem – A. D. Winans poems | Poetry Monster
- Иида Дакоцу – Сквозь зимнюю мглу
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
- Untitled XIX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XIV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XI by Yunus Emre
- Untitled X by Yunus Emre
- Untitled VIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled VII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled V by Yunus Emre
- Untitled IX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled IV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled III by Yunus Emre
- Untitled II by Yunus Emre
- Untitled I by Yunus Emre
- Love Compared To A Game Of Tables by William Strode
- Keepe On Your Maske (Version for his Mistress) by William Strode
- Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye by William Strode
- Justification by William Strode
- Jacke-On-Both-Sides by William Strode
- William Strode – William Strode
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.