There were Roses in the hedges, and Sunshine in the sky,
Red Lilies in the sedges, where the water rippled by,
A thousand Bulbuls singing, oh, how jubilant they were,
And a thousand flowers flinging their sweetness on the air.
But you, who sat beside me, had a shadow in your eyes,
Their sadness seemed to chide me, when I gave you scant replies;
You asked “Did I remember?” and “When had I ceased to care?”
In vain you fanned the ember, for the love flame was not there.
“And so, since you are tired of me, you ask me to forget,
What is the use of caring, now that you no longer care?
When Love is dead his Memory can only bring regret,
But how can I forget you with the flowers in your hair?”
What use the scented Roses, or the azure of the sky?
They are sweet when Love reposes, but then he had to die.
What could I do in leaving you, but ask you to forget,–
I suffered, too, in grieving you; I all but loved you yet.
But half love is a treason, that no lover can forgive,
I had loved you for a season, I had no more to give.
You saw my passion faltered, for I could but let you see,
And it was not I that altered, but Fate that altered me.
And so, since I am tired of love, I ask you to forget,
What is the use you caring, now that I no longer care?
When Love is dead, his Memory can only bring regret;
Forget me, oh, forget me, and my flower-scented hair!

A few random poems:
- 71 Ways For A Writer To Make Money
- Владимир Маяковский – Чтоб нас не заела разруха зубами голодных годов… (Главполитпросвет №7)
- The Shadow poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Высоцкий – Сколько чудес за туманами кроется
- Harp Song of the Dane Women by Rudyard Kipling
- To A Young Friend, On His Arriving At Cambridge Wet, When No Rain Had Fallen There by William Cowper
- Илона Грошева – Мой друг Евгений
- Низами Гянджеви – Искендер-наме – Страница 7 из 15
- Copywriting Agency Foundation For Prosperous Business
- An Honest Poet’s Life Is Full Of Care by Malcolm Massiah
- Lover’s Gifts XVI: She Dwelt Here by the Pool by Rabindranath Tagore
- Robert Burns: I do Confess Thou Art Sae Fair: Alteration of an Old Poem.
- To – – – – –
- black_on_black.html
- Олег Сердобольский – Воробышек и крошки
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
- The English Flag by Rudyard Kipling
- The Egg-Shell by Rudyard Kipling
- The ‘eathen by Rudyard Kipling
- The Dove of Dacca by Rudyard Kipling
- The Destroyers by Rudyard Kipling
- The Derelict by Rudyard Kipling
- The Deep-Sea Cables by Rudyard Kipling
- The Declaration of London by Rudyard Kipling
- The Dead King by Rudyard Kipling
- The Day’s Work by Rudyard Kipling
- The Craftsman by Rudyard Kipling
- The Conundrum of the Workshops by Rudyard Kipling
- The Comforters by Rudyard Kipling
- The Coastwise Lights by Rudyard Kipling
- The Children’s Song by Rudyard Kipling
- The Captive by Rudyard Kipling
- The Burial by Rudyard Kipling
- The Broken Men by Rudyard Kipling
- The Betrothed by Rudyard Kipling
- The Benefactors by Rudyard Kipling
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.