He lurks among the reeds, beside the marsh,
Red oleanders twisted in His hair,
His eyes are haggard and His lips are harsh,
Upon His breast the bones show gaunt and bare.
The green and stagnant waters lick His feet,
And from their filmy, iridescent scum
Clouds of mosquitoes, gauzy in the heat,
Rise with His gifts: Death and Delirium.
His messengers: They bear the deadly taint
On spangled wings aloft and far away,
Making thin music, strident and yet faint,
From golden eve to silver break of day.
The baffled sleeper hears th’ incessant whine
Through his tormented dreams, and finds no rest
The thirsty insects use his blood for wine,
Probe his blue veins and pasture on his breast.
While far away He in the marshes lies,
Staining the stagnant water with His breath,
An endless hunger burning in His eyes,
A famine unassuaged, whose food is Death.
He hides among the ghostly mists that float
Over the water, weird and white and chill,
And peasants, passing in their laden boat,
Shiver and feel a sense of coming ill.
A thousand burn and die; He takes no heed,
Their bones, unburied, strewn upon the plain,
Only increase the frenzy of His greed
To add more victims to th’ already slain.
He loves the haggard frame, the shattered mind,
Gloats with delight upon the glazing eye,
Yet, in one thing, His cruelty is kind,
He sends them lovely dreams before they die;
Dreams that bestow on them their heart’s desire,
Visions that find them mad, and leave them blest,
To sink, forgetful of the fever’s fire,
Softly, as in a lover’s arms, to rest.

A few random poems:
- music.html
- Arrow through the bellybutton poem
- Alison Gross poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Sonnet # 12 by Luis A. Estale
- My Boy Jack by Rudyard Kipling
- Robert Burns: Extemporaneous Effusion: On being appointed to an Excise division.
- Victims poem – Yaseen Anwer poems | Poetry Monster
- Before it is Time by Minal Sarosh
- Rain by Reena Ribalow
- Николай Гумилев – Как труп, бессилен небосклон
- September 1815 by William Wordsworth
- Sonnet: Before He Went poem – John Keats poems
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Что ж делать
- Irish Love Song by Margaret Widdemer
- Welcome
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
- Song—Willie brew’d a Peck o’ Maut by Robert Burns
- Song—The Tear-drop—“Wae is my heart” by Robert Burns
- Song—The Highland Balou by Robert Burns
- Song—The Fall of the Leaf by Robert Burns
- Song—The Birks of Aberfeldy by Robert Burns
- Song—Sweet Afton by Robert Burns
- Song—Stay my Charmer by Robert Burns
- Song—She’s Fair and Fause by Robert Burns
- Song—O Tibbie, I hae seen the day by Robert Burns
- Song—O let me in this ae night by Robert Burns
- Song—O can ye Labour Lea? by Robert Burns
- Song—Fragment—Leezie Lindsay by Robert Burns
- Song—Farewell to the Highlands by Robert Burns
- Song—Farewell to the Banks of Ayr by Robert Burns
- Song—Blythe hae I been on yon hill by Robert Burns
- Song—Beware o’ Bonie Ann by Robert Burns
- Song—Bessy and her Spinnin Wheel by Robert Burns
- Song—Behold the Hour, the Boat, arrive by Robert Burns
- Song—Behold, my love, how green the groves by Robert Burns
- Song—Awa’, Whigs, Awa’ by Robert Burns
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.