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:
- You’re by Sylvia Plath
- Rhyming Reply to a Note from Captain Riddell by Robert Burns
- Robert Burns: Poortith Cauld And Restless Love:
- Владимир Маяковский – Эй
- A Precise Woman by Yehuda Amichai
- Shining Armour by Vaishnavi Prakash
- Kumarakom (after the boat tragedy) by Shreekumar Varma
- Robert Burns: The Winter It Is Past:
- You Say You Love poem – John Keats poems
- Don’t Ceäre by William Barnes
- said, unsaid by tulip
- Ode On The Spring by Thomas Gray
- Ambrose Bierce – Ambrose Bierce Poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Immigrant
- Зинаида Александрова – Топотушки
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
- Новелла Матвеева – Восток, прошедший чрез воображенье
- Новелла Матвеева – Ветер
- Новелла Матвеева – Величие?
- Новелла Матвеева – Василий Андреевич
- Новелла Матвеева – Страна Дельфиния
- Новелла Матвеева – Смех Фавна
- Новелла Матвеева – Река
- Новелла Матвеева – Пушкин
- Новелла Матвеева – Подсолнух
- Новелла Матвеева – Отражённым светом
- Новелла Матвеева – О юморе
- Новелла Матвеева – Набрела на правильную строчку
- Новелла Матвеева – Мне кажется
- Новелла Матвеева – Маяк
- Новелла Матвеева – Когда Вселенная открывает нам добровольно
- Новелла Матвеева – Иней
- Новелла Матвеева – Есть вопиющий быт, есть вещие примеры
- Новелла Матвеева – Двое (Баллада)
- Новелла Матвеева – Дома без крыш
- Новелла Матвеева – Будьте, как дети
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.