Listen Beloved

Listen, Beloved, the Casurinas quiver,

Each tassel prays the wind to set it free,

Hark to the frantic sobbing of the river,

Wild to attain extinction in the sea.

All Nature blindly struggles to dissolve

In other forms and forces, thus to solve

The painful riddle of identity.

Ah, that my soul might lose itself in thee!

Yet, my Beloved One, wherefore seek I union,

Since there is no such thing in all the world,–

Are not our spirits linked in close communion,–

And on my lips thy clinging lips are curled?

Thy tender arms are round my shoulders thrown,

I hear thy heart more loudly than my own,

And yet, to my despair, I know thee far,

As in the stellar darkness, star from star.

Even in times when love with bounteous measure

A simultaneous joy on us has shed,

In the last moment of delirious pleasure,

Ere the sense fail, or any force be fled,

My rapture has been even as a wall,

Shutting out any thought of thee at all!

My being, by its own delight possessed,

Forgot that it was sleeping on thy breast.

Ay, from his birth each man is vowed and given

To a vast loneliness, ungauged, unspanned,

Whether by pain and woe his soul be riven,

Or all fair pleasures clustered ‘neath his hand.

His gain by day, his ecstasy by night,–

His force, his folly, fierce or faint delight,–

Suffering or sorrow, fortune, feud, or care,–

Whate’er he find or feel,–he may not share.

Lonely we join the world, and we depart

Even as lonely, having lived alone,

The breast that feeds us, the beloved one’s heart,

The lips we kiss,–or curse–alike unknown.

Ay, even these lips of thine, so often kissed,

What certitude have I that they exist?

Alas, it is the truth, though harsh it seems,

I have been loved as sweetly in my dreams.

Therefore if I should seem too fiercely fond,

Too swift to love, too eager to attain,

Forgive the fervour that would forge beyond

The limits set to mortal joy and pain.

Knowing the soul’s unmeasured loneliness,

My passion must be mingled with distress,

As I, despairing, struggle to draw near

What is as unattainable as dear.

Thirst may be quenched at any kindly river,

Rest may be found ‘neath any arching tree.

No sleep allures, no draughts of love deliver

My spirit from its aching need of thee.

Thy sweet assentiveness to my demands,

All the caressive touches of thy hands,–

These soft cool hands, with fingers tipped with fire,–

They can do nothing to assuage desire.

Sometimes I think my longing soul remembers

A previous love to which it aims and strives,

As if this fire of ours were but the embers

Of some wild flame burnt out in former lives.

Perchance in earlier days I _did_ attain

That which I seek for now so all in vain,

Maybe my soul with thine _was_ fused and wed

In some great night, long since dissolved and dead.

We may progress; but who shall answer clearly

The riddle of the endless change of things.

Perchance in other days men loved more dearly,

Or Love himself had wider ways and wings,

Maybe we gave ourselves with less control,

Or simpler living left more free the soul,

So that with ease the flesh aside was flung,–

Or was it merely that _Mankind was young?_

Or has my spirit a divine prevision

Of vast vague passions stored in days to be,

When some strong souls shall conquer their division

And two shall be as one, eternally?

Finding at last upon each other’s breast,

Unutterable calm and infinite rest,

While love shall burn with such intense a glow

That both shall die, and neither heed or know.

Why do I question thus, and wake confusion

In the soft thought that lights thy perfect face,

Ah, shed once more thy perfumed hair’s profusion,

Open thine arms and make my resting place.

Lay thy red lips on mine as heretofore,

Grant me the treasure of thy beauty’s store,

Stifle all thought in one imperious kiss,–

What shall I ask for more than this,–and this?

Poetry Monster – Home

A few random poems:

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 

• Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

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.

 

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