At Kotri, by the river, when the evening’s sun is low,
The waving palm trees quiver, the golden waters glow,
The shining ripples shiver, descending to the sea;
At Kotri, by the river, she used to wait for me.
So young, she was, and slender, so pale with wistful eyes
As luminous and tender as Kotri’s twilight skies.
Her face broke into flowers, red flowers at the mouth,
Her voice,–she sang for hours like bulbuls in the south.
We sat beside the water through burning summer days,
And many things I taught her of Life and all its ways
Of Love, man’s loveliest duty, of Passion’s reckless pain,
Of Youth, whose transient beauty comes once, but not again.
She lay and laughed and listened beside the water’s edge.
The glancing rirer glistened and glinted through the sedge.
Green parrots flew above her and, as the daylight died,
Her young arms drew her lover more closely to her side.
Oh days so warm and golden! oh nights so cool and still!
When Love would not be holden, and Pleasure had his will.
Days, when in after leisure, content to rest we lay,
Nights, when her lips’ soft pressure drained all my life away.
And while we sat together, beneath the Babul trees,
The fragrant, sultry weather cooled by the river breeze,
If passion faltered ever, and left the senses free,
We heard the tireless river decending to the sea.
I know not where she wandered, or went in after days,
Or if her youth she squandered in Love’s more doubtful ways.
Perhaps, beside the river, she died, still young and fair;
Perchance the grasses quiver above her slumber there.
At Kotri, by the river, maybe I too shall sleep
The sleep that lasts for ever, too deep for dreams; too deep.
Maybe among the shingle and sand of floods to be
Her dust and mine may mingle and float away to sea.
Ah Kotri, by the river, when evening’s sun is low,
Your faint reflections quiver, your golden ripples glow.
You knew, oh Kotri river, that love which could not last.
For me your palms still shiver with passions of the past.
A few random poems:
- Шекспир – Запечатленный в слове лик твой милый – Сонет 59
- “Call Not The Royal Swede Unfortunate” by William Wordsworth
- Plague Victims Catapulted Over Walls Into Besieged City by Thomas Lux
- A Memory by William Allingham
- To the State of Love. Or the Senses’ Festival. By John Cleveland
- Robert Burns: Willie Chalmers: Mr. Chalmers, a gentleman in Ayrshire, a particular friend of mine, asked me to write a poetic epistle to a young lady, his Dulcinea. I had seen her, but was scarcely acquainted with her, and wrote as follows:-
- Since There Is No Escape by Sara Teasdale
- Sonnet CXIX by William Shakespeare
- Memory by William Wordsworth
- Gliding Over All. by Walt Whitman
- Олег Бундур – Полёт
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 118. Contemplate all this work of Tim poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Ольга Седакова – Только время доходит сюда
- The Death Bed by Thomas Hood
- A Poem Upon The Death Of O.C. poem – Andrew Marvell poems
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
- Holidays by Nicolene Kissinger
- Holding my heart for YOU by Neelam Sinha
- Hemingwayan waves of time by Ndue Ukaj
- Godo Is Not Coming by Ndue Ukaj
- First kiss for Arys and Nikys by Nicole Vasilcovschi
- Fairytale by Nicole M Nugent
- Eucalyptus Grove, morning by Neal Dachstadter
- Epigoni by Neil Outar
- Enigma of A Phoenix by Neelam Dadhwal
- Dance with ME by Neelam Sinha
- Confession by Neelam Sinha
- Clashes by Ndue Ukaj
- Best Friend by Nicole M Nugent
- Ballad de soul by Neelam Sinha
- Appeal by Ndue Ukaj
- Apollo the great by Neelam Shah
- Afraid of rabbit HOLE by Neelam Sinha
- A soul’s DESIRE by Neelam Sinha
- A seed’s destiny by Neelam Sinha
- Your Eyes by Omair Bhat
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.