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:
- pathos_is_the_skyward_tanka.html
- Elizabeth by Michael Ondaatje
- It Takes a While to Disappear by Ralph Angel
- The Tent poem – Aleister Crowley poems | Poetry Monster
- Tonic For Victory
- Владимир Степанов – Масленица
- Sonnet 135: Whoever hath her wish, thou hast thy will by William Shakespeare
- The Passing of Stumpy Shore by Mervyn John Webster
- Николай Карамзин – К Алине на смерть ее супруга
- Inscription For A Stone Erected At The Sowing Of A Grove Of Oaks At Chillington, Anno 1790 by William Cowper
- The Quality of Courage by Stephen Vincent Benet
- He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by William Butler Yeats
- The Tree of Scarlet Berries poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Луговской – Пила
- In Me, Past, Present, Future meet by Siegfried Sassoon
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
- Юнна Мориц – Побег
- Юнна Мориц – Осень
- Юнна Мориц – О жизни, о жизни
- Юнна Мориц – Не вспоминай меня
- Юнна Мориц – На Трафальгарской площади ночной
- Юнна Мориц – На смерть Джульетты
- Юнна Мориц – Мой подвал
- Юнна Мориц – Малиновая кошка
- Юнна Мориц – Лето
- Юнна Мориц – Котик
- Юнна Мориц – Комарово
- Юнна Мориц – Это вьюги хрустящий калач
- Юнна Мориц – Это да, это нет
- Юнна Мориц – Дышать любовью, пить её, как воздух
- Юнна Мориц – Дрожащие губы и скрежет плаща
- Юнна Мориц – Цветок
- Юнна Мориц – Букет котов
- Юнна Мориц – Большой секрет для маленькой компании
- Юнна Мориц – Благолепие света
- Юнна Мориц – Бетани
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.