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:
- The Frantic by Mark Miller
- Thoughts by Ronald G. Auguste
- Юлия Друнина – Веет чем-то родным и древним
- Владимир Набоков – К Родине
- Вероника Тушнова – Я поняла, ты не хотел мне зла
- Why Do All Good Things Come To An End? by Michael Yuan
- Валерий Брюсов – Из ада изведенные (Астарта! Астарта! И ты посмеялась)
- Sketch in Verse, inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox by Robert Burns
- Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 by William Wordsworth
- The Indian Upon God by William Butler Yeats
- The Daguerreotype by William Vaughn Moody
- Inscription For A Hermitage In The Author’s Garden by William Cowper
- Winter dusk at the railway halt by Sunil Sharma
- Tim, An Irish Terrier by Winifred Mary Letts
- Владимир Степанов – Ёжик и дождик
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 Костров – В керосиновой лампе
- Владимир Костров – Утро в Заборье
- Владимир Костров – У них в делах анархия и жуть
- Владимир Костров – То в ночи она вспыхнет, как спичка
- Владимир Костров – Сверстницам
- Владимир Костров – Старый сюжет
- Владимир Костров – Срок настал, московская богема
- Владимир Костров – Смуту и безверье не приемль
- Владимир Костров – Романс
- Владимир Костров – Просыпаюсь от сердечной боли
- Владимир Костров – Поток ушедших лет
- Владимир Костров – Поплачь, любимая, поплачь
- Владимир Костров – Полон взгляд тихой боли и страха
- Владимир Костров – Поэтессе
- Владимир Костров – Письмо в никуда
- Владимир Костров – Памяти Николая Анциферова
- Владимир Костров – Отшумели сады, отзвенела вода
- Владимир Костров – Новогодняя ночь
- Владимир Костров – Не трогайте жанр
- Владимир Костров – Не банкира, не детей Арбата
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.