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:
- Владимир Маяковский – О том, как у Керзона с обедом разрасталась аппетитов зона
- If You Only Knew by Robert Desnos
- Two Sisters Of Persephone by Sylvia Plath
- What The Thrush Said. Lines From A Letter To John Hamilton Reynolds poem – John Keats poems
- Алексей Толстой – Рука Алкида тяжела
- A Brief History of Special Education
- Sonnet 11 poem – John Milton poems
- The India Wharf by Sara Teasdale
- Ольга Седакова – Болезнь
- Vietnam Vet befriends an immigrant in Pittsburgh, Pa – ( let’s put it that way ) by Vasil Slavov
- Ольга Берггольц – Сибиринка
- A Three-Part Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Илья Эренбург – Жилье в горах, как всякое жилье
- Илья Эренбург – Я знаю, будет золотой и долгий
- Низами Гянджеви – Из месяца лишь день прошел
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
- An Arab Shepherd Is Searching For His Goat On Mount Zion by Yehuda Amichai
- A Precise Woman by Yehuda Amichai
- A Pity, We Were Such A Good Invention by Yehuda Amichai
- A Jewish Cemetery In Germany by Yehuda Amichai
- A Dog After Love by Yehuda Amichai
- Straw sandal half sunk by Yosa Buson
- Sparrow singing by Yosa Buson
- Ploughing the land by Yosa Buson
- Old well by Yosa Buson
- Not quite dark yet by Yosa Buson
- My arm for a pillow by Yosa Buson
- Listening to the moon by Yosa Buson
- Lighting one candle by Yosa Buson
- Yosa Buson – Yosa Buson
- Hokku Poems in Four Seasons by Yosa Buson
- His Holiness the Abbot by Yosa Buson
- He’s on the porch by Yosa Buson
- Harvest moon by Yosa Buson
- Evening wind by Yosa Buson
- Elegy to the Old Man Hokuju by Yosa Buson
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.