Be still, my heart, and listen,
For sweet and yet acute
I hear the wistful music
Of Khristna and his flute.
Across the cool, blue evenings,
Throughout the burning days,
Persuasive and beguiling,
He plays and plays and plays.
Ah, none may hear such music
Resistant to its charms,
The household work grows weary,
And cold the husband’s arms.
I must arise and follow,
To seek, in vain pursuit,
The blueness and the distance,
The sweetness of that flute!
In linked and liquid sequence,
The plaintive notes dissolve
Divinely tender secrets
That none but he can solve.
Oh, Khristna, I am coming,
I can no more delay.
“My heart has flown to join thee,”
How can my footsteps stay?
Beloved, such thoughts have peril;
The wish is in my mind
That I had fired the jungle,
And left no leaf behind,–
Burnt all bamboos to ashes,
And made their music mute,–
To save thee from the magic
Of Khristna and his flute.

A few random poems:
- How Do You Know when Someone is in Love with You?
- An Appearance by Sylvia Plath
- Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar by T. S. Eliot
- A Writer’s Pen by Sahiti Siddharth
- The Lion by Vachel Lindsay
- Claribel: A Melody poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Sounds of your love poem – Andrew Vassell poems | Poems and Poetry
- In a Vale by Robert Frost
- A Friend’s Illness by William Butler Yeats
- Style Ideas For Vests For Women
- conference_swan_beauty.html
- Юлия Друнина – В сорок пятом
- His Loss by Robert Herrick
- Robert Burns: Halloween: The following poem will, by many readers, be well enough understood; but for the sake of those who are unacquainted with the manners and traditions of the country where the scene is cast, notes are added to give some account of the principal charms and spells of that night, so big with prophecy to the peasantry in the west of Scotland. The passion of prying into futurity makes a striking part of the history of human nature in its rude state, in all ages and nations; and it may be some entertainment to a philosophic mind, if any such honour the author with a perusal, to see the remains of it among the more unenlightened in our own.-R.B.
- The Mother Of A Poet by Sara Teasdale
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
- Traveling Dream by Marge Piercy
- Toad Dreams by Marge Piercy
- To the Pay Toilet by Marge Piercy
- To Be of Use by Marge Piercy
- To a Steam Roller by Marianne Moore
- To an Intra-mural Rat by Marianne Moore
- The Woman in the Ordinary by Marge Piercy
- The Steeple-Jack by Marianne Moore
- The Seven Of Pentacles by Marge Piercy
- The Past is the Present by Marianne Moore
- The Paper Nautilus by Marianne Moore
- The Pangolin by Marianne Moore
- The Neighbor by Marge Piercy
- The Morning Half-Life Blues by Marge Piercy
- The Moment I knew my Life had Changed by Maria Mazziotti Gillan
- The Friend by Marge Piercy
- The Fish by Marianne Moore
- The Dark Cavalier by Margaret Widdemer
- The Colloquy Beneath by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- The Cat’s Song by Marge Piercy
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.