“This is no time for saying ‘no'”
Were thy last words to me,
And yet my lips refused the kiss
They might have given thee.
How could I know
That thou wouldst go
To sleep so far from me?
They took thee to the Burning-Ghat,
Oh, Lallji, my desire,
And now a faint and lonely flame
Uprises from the pyre.
The thin grey smoke in spirals drifts
Across the opal sky.
Would that I were a wife of thine,
And thus with thee could die!
How could I know
That thou wouldst go,
Oh, Lallji, my desire?
The lips I missed
The flames have kissed
Upon the Sandal pyre.
If one should meet me with a knife
And cut my heart in twain,
Then would he see the smoke arise
From every severed vein.
Such is the burning, inward fire,
The anguish of my pain,
For my Beloved, whose dying lips
Implored a kiss–in vain!
How could I know
That thou wouldst go,
Oh, Lallji, my desire?
Too young thou art
To lay thy heart
Upon the Sandal pyre.
Thy wife awaits her coming child;
What were a child to me,
If I might take thee in these arms
And face the flames with thee?
The priests are chanting round the pyre,
At dusk they will depart
And leave to thee thy lonely rest,
To me my lonelier heart.
How could I know
Thou lovedst me so?
Upon the Sandal pyre
He lies forsaken.
The flames have taken
My Lallji, my desire!
A few random poems:
- In The Depths Of Solitude by Tupac Shakur
- Parliament Hill Fields by Sylvia Plath
- Robert Burns: On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill:
- The Explorer by Rudyard Kipling
- Son Of A Scoundrel by Shel Silverstein
- Eddi’s Service by Rudyard Kipling
- A Song of Travel by Rudyard Kipling
- Olney Hymn 32: The Shining Light by William Cowper
- Blue eyes by Tanisha Avarsekar
- The Paper Windmill poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- On The Plethora Of Dryads by Sylvia Plath
- Bury Me In My Shades by Shel Silverstein
- Gulliver by Sylvia Plath
- How to Write Creative Non-fiction
- A beach dawn by Sunil Sharma
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
- A New Broom by Witt Wittmann
- A Form Of Women by Robert Creely
- A Sonnet Occasioned by the Bad Weather Which Hindered the Sports at New-Market in January, 1616 by William Drummond
- A Little Te Deum Of The Commonplace by John Oxenham
- Telephone Conversation by Wole Soyinka
- I think it rains by Wole Soyinka
- Dedication From Moremi by Wole Soyinka
- As Like The Woman As You Can by William Ernest Henley
- A Thanksgiving by William Ernest Henley
- At Queensferry by William Ernest Henley
- A New Song to an Old Tune by William Ernest Henley
- A Love By The Sea by William Ernest Henley
- A Late Lark Twitters From The Quiet Skies by William Ernest Henley
- A Dainty Thing’s The Villanelle by William Ernest Henley
- Blithe Dreams Arise To Greet Us by William Ernest Henley
- Beside The Idle Summer Sea by William Ernest Henley
- Ballade Of Youth And Age by William Ernest Henley
- Ballade Of Truisms by William Ernest Henley
- Ballade Of A Toyokuni Colour-Print by William Ernest Henley
- Ballade Of Midsummer Days And Nights by William Ernest Henley
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.