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:
- Middle Age
- 1914 IV: The Dead by Rupert Brooke
- Book Eighth: Retrospect–Love Of Nature Leading To Love Of Man by William Wordsworth
- Николай Глазков – Последний зимний
- Medicine to my brain poem – Andrew Vassell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Orlando Furioso Canto 12 by Ludovico Ariosto
- Алишер Навои – Когда, тоскуя по тебе
- Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief by William Shakespeare
- The Sleepers by Walt Whitman
- La Vie Boheme poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
- The Bagpipe Who Didn’t Say No by Shel Silverstein
- Олег Григорьев – Схватили за ногу правую
- Wish If You…! by Praveen Parasar
- The Cornfields by Vachel Lindsay
- In the Matter of One Compass by Rudyard Kipling
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
- Джон Мильтон – Новым гонителям свободы
- Джон Мильтон – Написано в дни, когда ожидался штурм Лондона
- Джон Китс – Два-три букета и две-три коробки
- Джон Китс – Дуралейная песня
- Джон Китс – Девчонка из Девона
- Джон Китс – Делим яблоко Евы
- Джон Китс – Что ж, по горам и по долам
- Джон Китс – Четыре разных времени в году
- Джон Китс – Чаттертону
- Джон Донн – Женская верность
- Джон Донн – Я весь боренье, на беду мою
- Джон Донн – Христос, Свою невесту, всю в лучах
- Джон Донн – Ворожба над портретом
- Джон Донн – О черная душа, Недуг напал
- Джон Донн – Ничто
- Джон Донн – Мощи
- Джон Донн – Любовная наука
- Джон Донн – Лекция о тени
- Джон Донн – Когда я с ней, с моим бесценным кладом
- Демьян Бедный – Весенний благостный покой
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.