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 Deep-Sea Cables by Rudyard Kipling
- A New Song to an Old Tune by William Ernest Henley
- Ein Yahav by Yehuda Amichai
- Sacred Epiphany poem – Ammar Nadeem poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Haymakers’ Song poem – Alfred Austin
- Sonnet 7: Lo, in the orient when the gracious light by William Shakespeare
- Ouija by Sylvia Plath
- I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ. by Walt Whitman
- Longing by Sara Teasdale
- Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault by William Shakespeare
- Our Whole Life
- Ballad of the Goodly Fere poem – Ezra Pound poems
- When I Came Last to Ludlow poem – A. E. Housman
- Sonnet IV: Unthrifty Loveliness, Why Dost Thou Spend by William Shakespeare
- Владимир Степанов – Рукавицы для лисицы
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
- Жан де Лафонтен – Голубь и Муравей
- Жан де Лафонтен – Фортуна и Дитя
- Жан де Лафонтен – Эзопово объяснение одного завещания
- Жан де Лафонтен – Две Козы
- Жан де Лафонтен – Два Мула
- Жан де Лафонтен – Дровосек и Меркурий
- Жан де Лафонтен – Дафнис и Алцимадура
- Жан де Лафонтен – Человек и его Изображение
- Жан де Лафонтен – Безумец и Мудрец
- Жан де Лафонтен – Астролог, упавший в колодец
- Жан де Лафонтен – Амур и Безумие
- Жан Расин – Решенье принято, час перемены пробил
- Жан Расин – Когда мы вышли из Трезенских врат
- Жан Расин – Гофолия
- Жан Расин – Британик
- Жан Расин – Андромаха
- Зинаида Александрова – Зимняя песенка
- Зинаида Александрова – Волчонок
- Зинаида Александрова – Ветер на речке
- Зинаида Александрова – Венок
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.