Why above others was I so blessed
And honoured? to be chosen one
To hold you, sleeping, against my breast,
As now I may hold your only son.
Twelve months ago; that wonderful night!
You gave your life to me in a kiss;
Have I done well, for that past delight,
In return, to have given you this?
Look down at his face, your face, beloved,
His eyes are azure as yours are blue.
In every line of his form is proved
How well I loved you, and only you.
I felt the secret hope at my heart
Turned suddenly to the living joy,
And knew that your life and mine had part
As golden grains in a brass alloy.
And learning thus, that your child was mine,
Thrilled by the sense of its stirring life,
I held myself as a sacred shrine
Afar from pleasure, and pain, and strife,
That all unworthy I might not be
Of that you had deigned to cause to dwell
Hidden away in the heart of me,
As white pearls hide in a dusky shell.
Do you remember, when first you laid
Your lips on mine, that enchanted night?
My eyes were timid, my lips afraid,
You seemed so slender and strangely white.
I always tremble; the moments flew
Swiftly to dawn that took you away,
But this is a small and lovely you
Content to rest in my arms all day.
Oh, since you have sought me, Lord, for this,
And given your only child to me,
My life devoted to yours and his,
Whilst I am living, will always be.
And after death, through the long To Be,
(Which, I think, must surely keep love’s laws,)
I, should you chance to have need of me,
Am ever and always, only yours.
A few random poems:
- The Dying Christian to His Soul poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- Chronicles by Mark Olynyk
- Василий Тредиаковский – Дворы там весьма суть уединенны
- To Natasha poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Weaving waves by Shailendra Singh
- Study of an Elevation, In Indian Ink by Rudyard Kipling
- Владимир Высоцкий – Мы живём в большом селе Большие Вилы
- Владимир Маяковский – Для чего оттягивают паны мириться?.. (РОСТА №264)
- If It Were Beginning by Sriparna Bandyopadhyay
- Николай Карамзин – К неверной
- The Husband’s Black Hands by Mallika Sengupta
- Николай Заболоцкий – Шакалы
- Ode On A Grecian Urn poem – John Keats poems
- Otho The Great – Act IV poem – John Keats poems
- Яков Полонский – Цветок
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.