_Bridegroom_
I give you my house and my lands, all golden with harvest;
My sword, my shield, and my jewels, the spoils of my strife,
My strength and my dreams, and aught I have gathered of glory,
And to-night–to-night, I shall give you my very life.
_Bride_
I may not raise my eyes, O my Lord, towards you,
And I may not speak: what matter? my voice would fail.
But through my dowacast lashes, feeling your beauty,
I shiver and burn with pleasure beneath my veil.
_Younger Sisters_
We throw sweet perfume upon her head,
And delicate flowers round her bed.
Ah, would that it were our turn to wed!
_Mother_
I see my daughter, vaguely, through my tears,
(Ah, lost caresses of my early years!)
I see the bridegroom, King of men in truth!
(Ah, my first lover, and my vanished youth!)
_Bride_
Almost I dread this night. My senses fail me.
How shall I dare to clasp a thing so dear?
Many have feared your name, but I your beauty.
Lord of my life, be gentle to my fear!
_Younger Sisters_
In the softest silk is our sister dressed,
With silver rubies upon her breast,
Where a dearer treasure to-night will rest.
_Dancing Girls_
See! his hair is like silk, and his teeth are whiter
Than whitest of jasmin flowers. Pity they marry him thus.
I would change my jewels against his caresses.
Verily, sisters, this marriage is greatly a loss to us!
_Bride_
Would that the music ceased and the night drew round us,
With solitude, shadow, and sound of closing doors,
So that our lips might meet and our beings mingle,
While mine drank deep of the essence, beloved, of yours.
_Passing mendicant_
Out of the joy of your marriage feast,
Oh, brothers, be good to me.
The way is long and the Shrine is far,
Where my weary feet would be.
And feasting is always somewhat sad
To those outside the door–
Still; Love is only a dream, and Life
Itself is hardly more!
A few random poems:
- Владимир Бенедиктов – На пятидесятилетний юбилей Крылова
- Rhyme by the Bog by Robby Charters
- Олег Сердобольский – Черная считалка
- Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry by Robert Burns
- Music’s Empire poem – Andrew Marvell poems
- East Idioms (1): A Fable by Mike Yuan
- Ярослав Смеляков – Я отюдова уйду
- Вероника Тушнова – Ты не любишь считать облака
- Song Of The Wandering Jew by William Wordsworth
- Sculptor by Sylvia Plath
- Cities and Thrones and Powers by Rudyard Kipling
- Гавриил Державин – Анакреон у печки
- Glory Of Women by Siegfried Sassoon
- To a Lady with an Unruly and Ill-mannered Dog Who Bit several Persons of Importance by Sir Walter Raleigh
- Шекспир – Про черный день – Сонет 63
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
- Leto and Niobe by Sappho
- It’s no use by Sappho
- It was you, Atthis, who said by Sappho
- It is the Muses by Sappho
- It is the Muses by Sappho
- I took my lyre and said by Sappho
- I have no complaint by Sappho
- Hymn To Aphrodite by Sappho
- Hesperus The Bringer by Sappho
- He is more than a hero by Sappho
- He is more than a hero by Sappho
- Grace by Sappho
- Like the gods. . . by Sappho
- To A Girl In A Garden by Sappho
- Evening by Sappho
- Drapple-thorned Aphrodite, by Sappho
- Dica by Sappho
- Cyprian, in my dream by Sappho
- Claïs by Sappho
- Blame Aphrodite by Sappho
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.