Song by Valgovind
The fields are full of Poppies, and the skies are very blue,
By the Temple in the coppice, I wait, Beloved, for you.
The level land is sunny, and the errant air is gay,
With scent of rose and honey; will you come to me to-day?
From carven walls above me, smile lovers; many a pair.
“Oh, take this rose and love me!” she has twined it in her hair.
He advances, she retreating, pursues and holds her fast,
The sculptor left them meeting, in a close embrace at last.
Through centuries together, in the carven stone they lie,
In the glow of golden weather, and endless azure sky.
Oh, that we, who have for pleasure so short and scant a stay,
Should waste our summer leisure; will you come to me to-day?
The Temple bells are ringing, for the marriage month has come.
I hear the women singing, and the throbbing of the drum.
And when the song is failing, or the drums a moment mute,
The weirdly wistful wailing of the melancholy flute.
Little life has got to offer, and little man to lose,
Since to-day Fate deigns to proffer, Oh wherefore, then, refuse
To take this transient hour, in the dusky Temple gloom
While the poppies are in flower, and the mangoe trees abloom.
And if Fate remember later, and come to claim her due,
What sorrow will be greater than the Joy I had with you?
For to-day, lit by your laughter, between the crushing years,
I will chance, in the hereafter, eternities of tears.

A few random poems:
- Specula by Thomas Edward Brown
- Silver Trails by Satish Verma
- Владимир Маяковский – Никчемное самоутешение
- Germs. by Walt Whitman
- The Paper Nautilus by Marianne Moore
- Sonnet 23 poem – John Milton poems
- The Silent Muse poem – Alfred Austin
- Proud Music of The Storm by Walt Whitman
- Irony poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Journal Entry poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
- Bones by Walter de la Mare
- Юлия Друнина – Я курила недолго, давно, на войне
- A Dream Pang by Robert Frost
- Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse by William Shakespeare
- Михаил Кузмин – В густом лесу мы дождь пережидали
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
- Autumn Leaves by Thomas J Camp
- You by Thonda Sri Indrani
- You Will Forget! by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Written at Stonehenge by Thomas Warton
- Words Of Love Forevermore by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Why? by Tiffany Ann Monroe
- While Summer Suns O’er the Gay Prospect Play’d by Thomas Warton
- What Is Woman But A Song! by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- We are Africa by Timileyin Gabriel Olajuwon
- Virgule by Thomas Lux
- Verses on Sir Joshua Reynold’s Painted Window at New College, Oxford by Thomas Warton
- Vagueness Petrified by Thonda Sri Indrani
- Unlike, For Example, The Sound Of A Riptooth Saw by Thomas Lux
- Town Planning Agencies by Tilottama Chatterjee
- Torn Shades by Thomas Lux
- The Road That Runs Beside The River by Thomas Lux
- The Pulling Away by Timothy Cole
- The Pleasures of Melancholy by Thomas Warton
- The Man Into Whose Yard You Should Not Hit Your Ball by Thomas Lux
- The Mocking Bird by Timothy Thomas Fortune
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.