How I loved you in your sleep,
With the starlight on your hair!
The touch of your lips was sweet,
Aziza whom I adore,
As I lay at your slender feet,
And against their soft palms pressed,
I fitted my face to rest.
As winds blow over the sea
From Citron gardens ashore,
Came, through your scented hair,
The breeze of the night to me.
My lips grew arid and dry,
My nerves were tense,
Though your beauty soothe the eye
It maddens the sense.
Every curve of that beauty is known to me,
Every tint of that delicate roseleaf skin,
And these are printed on ever atom of me,
Burnt in on every fibre until I die.
And for this, my sin,
I doubt if ever, though dust I be,
The dust will lose the desire,
The torment and hidden fire,
Of my passionate love for you.
Aziza whom I adore,
My dust will be full of your beauty, as is the blue
And infinite ocean full of the azure sky.
In the light that waxed and waned
Playing about your slumber in silver bars,
As the palm trees swung their feathery fronds athwart the stars,
How quiet and young you were,
Pale as the Champa flowers, violet veined,
That, sweet and fading, lay in your loosened hair.
How sweet you were in your sleep,
With the starlight on your hair!
Your throat thrown backwards, bare,
And touched with circling moonbeams, silver white
On the couch’s sombre shade.
O Aziza my one delight,
When Youth’s passionate pulses fade,
And his golden heart beats slow,
When across the infinite sky
I see the roseate glow
Of my last, last sunset flare,
I shall send my thoughts to this night
And remember you as I die,
The one thing, among all the things of this earth, found fair.
How sweet you were in your sleep,
With the starlight, silver and sable, across your hair!

A few random poems:
- The Clime Of My Birth by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Robert Burns: The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata:
- Extempore on some commemorations of Thomson by Robert Burns
- Sonnet 13: O, that you were your self! But, love, you are by William Shakespeare
- Virginibus Puerisque
- On The Menu by Graham Rowlands
- Hospital Barge At Cerisy by Wilfred Owen
- To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country by William Wordsworth
- Юнна Мориц – Свежий бублик
- Sestina: Altaforte poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Monadnock in Early Spring poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Олег Бундур – Я болею
- Eden in Winter by Vachel Lindsay
- Владимир Маяковский – Давайте и получите (РОСТА №495)
- Владимир Корнилов – Чтение
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
- time by tulip
- The Sound Of Music -a Ghazal by Umamaheswari Anandane
- the secrets , we hide by tulip
- The Tears In Cupid’s Eyes by Tupac Shakur
- The Rose That Grew From Concrete by Tupac Shakur
- said, unsaid by tulip
- Quest for Thee by Vanessa Perkins
- Paradise On Earth! by V. Muthu Manickam
- Overnight at the Riverside Tower by Tu Fu
- once i saw a old man’s shop by tulip
- On a Prospect of T’ai-shan by Tu Fu
- Morning Rain by Tu Fu
- Moonlit Night by Tu Fu
- Tu Fu – Tu Fu
- Tu Fu – Tu Fu
- In The Event Of My Demise by Tupac Shakur
- In The Depths Of Solitude by Tupac Shakur
- Gazing at the Sacred Peak by Tu Fu
- Full Moon by Tu Fu
- Fallen Star: Dedicated to Huey P. Newton by Tupac Shakur
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.