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:
- My Mistress Commanding Me to Return Her Letters. by Thomas Carew
- A Promise to California. by Walt Whitman
- everything is a lie by tulip
- Владимир Луговской – Та, которую я знал
- Living in my Bliss by Nina Gabriel
- Fairy Land iii by William Shakespeare
- Robert Burns: Scots’ Prologue For Mr. Sutherland: On his Benefit-Night, at the Theatre, Dumfries.
- The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman by William Butler Yeats
- A Reply by Wang Wei
- A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies by William Ernest Henley
- First Look at Mom by Nikhil Jain
- Robert Burns: The Calf: To the Rev. James Steven, on his text, Malachi, ch. iv. vers. 2. “And ye shall go forth, and grow up, as Calves of the stall.”
- Now That You’re Gone by Roberto Cocina
- Константин Бальмонт – На мотив псалма XVIII-гo
- The Hospital On The Shore
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
- Владимир Степанов – Почему не спят котята?
- Владимир Степанов – Осы
- Владимир Степанов – Ослик
- Владимир Степанов – Облако-овечка
- Владимир Степанов – Неваляшка (Буква Н)
- Владимир Степанов – Наша Армия
- Владимир Степанов – Мышь и кошка
- Владимир Степанов – Мишка (Буква М)
- Владимир Степанов – Масленица
- Владимир Степанов – Лисички
- Владимир Степанов – Кто хозяин
- Владимир Степанов – Кот
- Владимир Степанов – Конкурс красоты
- Владимир Степанов – Как живете? Что жуете?
- Владимир Степанов – Гусь и цыплёнок
- Владимир Степанов – Гном (Буква Г)
- Владимир Степанов – Галочка-считалочка
- Владимир Степанов – Эскимос (Буква Э)
- Владимир Степанов – Енот (Буква Е)
- Владимир Степанов – Двенадцать месяцев
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.