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:
- If Only by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Juan In Middle Age by Vernon Scannell
- Юлия Друнина – Другу
- In Prison by William Morris
- Михаил Лермонтов – Война
- Of Old Sat Freedom on the Heights poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Омар Хайям – Чем ниже человек душой, тем выше задирает нос
- Are You the New person, drawn toward Me? by Walt Whitman
- Владимир Маяковский – Про пешеходов и разинь, вонзивших глазки небу в синь
- A Morning Exercise by William Wordsworth
- Epistle To My Brother George poem – John Keats poems
- What Work Is by Philip Levine
- Николай Заболоцкий – Рубрук в Монголии
- Владимир Набоков – Какое сделал я дурное дело
- Иннокентий Анненский – Еврипид. Орест (перевод)
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
- Screw-Guns by Rudyard Kipling
- Russia To The Pacifists by Rudyard Kipling
- Route Marchin’ by Rudyard Kipling
- Romulus and Remus by Rudyard Kipling
- Road-Song of the Bandar-Log by Rudyard Kipling
- Rimmon by Rudyard Kipling
- Rimini by Rudyard Kipling
- Recessional (A Victorian Ode) by Rudyard Kipling
- Recessional by Rudyard Kipling
- Rebirth by Rudyard Kipling
- Puck’s Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Public Waste by Rudyard Kipling
- Prophets at Home by Rudyard Kipling
- Prelude by Rudyard Kipling
- Possibilities by Rudyard Kipling
- Poor Honest Men by Rudyard Kipling
- Philadelphia by Rudyard Kipling
- Pagett, M.P. by Rudyard Kipling
- Outsong in the Jungle by Rudyard Kipling
- Our Fathers Also 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.