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:
- Николай Языков – Песнь баяна (Люблю смотреть на месяц ясной)
- Алексей Николаевич Толстой – Талисман
- Robert Burns: Fickle Fortune: Fragment
- Some Say by Mark Miller
- Ode by William Wordsworth
- Encounter In The Chestnut Avenue by Rainer Maria Rilke
- Two Months by Rudyard Kipling
- Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie by William Shakespeare
- innocence.html
- To Sr Henry Vane The Younger poem – John Milton poems
- Religious Obsession — translation from Dharmamoha by Rabindranath Tagore
- The end by Mahak Raithatha S
- Woman With Parasol by Martin Willitts Jr.
- Lucky by Thomas Lux
- Why Me? by Michael Yuan
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
- Locations and Times. by Walt Whitman
- Lo! Victress on the Peaks. by Walt Whitman
- Lessons. by Walt Whitman
- Laws for Creations. by Walt Whitman
- Last Invocation, The. by Walt Whitman
- Kosmos. by Walt Whitman
- Joy, Shipmate, Joy! by Walt Whitman
- Italian Music in Dakota. by Walt Whitman
- Inscription. by Walt Whitman
- Indications, The. by Walt Whitman
- In the New Garden in all the Parts. by Walt Whitman
- In Paths Untrodden. by Walt Whitman
- In Midnight Sleep. by Walt Whitman
- In Cabin’d Ships at Sea. by Walt Whitman
- I will Take an Egg Out of the Robin’s Nest. by Walt Whitman
- I was Looking a Long While. by Walt Whitman
- I Thought I was not Alone. by Walt Whitman
- I Sit and Look Out. by Walt Whitman
- I Sing the Body Electric. by Walt Whitman
- I saw Old General at Bay. by Walt Whitman
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.