The sins of Youth are hardly sins,
So frank they are and free.
‘T is but when Middle-age begins
We need morality.
Ah, pause and weigh this bitter truth:
That Middle-age, grown cold,
No comprehension has of Youth,
No pity for the Old.
Youth, with his half-divine mistakes,
She never can forgive,
So much she hates his charm which makes
Worth while the life we live.
She scorns Old Age, whose tolerance
And calm, well-balanced mind
(Knowing how crime is born of chance)
Can pardon all mankind.
Yet she, alas! has all the power
Of strength and place and gold,
Man’s every act, through every hour,
Is by her laws controlled.
All things she grasps with sordid hands
And weighs in tarnished scales.
She neither feels, nor understands,
And yet her will prevails!
Cold-blooded vice and careful sin,
Gold-lust, blind selfishness,–
The shortest, cheapest way to win
Some, worse than cheap, success.
Such are her attributes and aims,
Yet meekly we obey,
While she to guide and order claims
All issues of the day.
You seek for honour, friendship, truth?
Let Middle-age be banned!
Go, for warm-hearted acts, to Youth;
To Age,–to understand!

A few random poems:
- Fight to a Finish by Siegfried Sassoon
- Омар Хайям – Дай мне влаги хмельной, укрепляющей дух
- Николай Языков – А. А. Воейковой (На петербургскую дорогу)
- A Tale of Christmas Eve by William Topaz McGonagall
- Who Would Of Knew…..About Your Concept!!! (July 10th) by Stevens Cadet
- Sonnet 117: Accuse me thus: that I have scanted all by William Shakespeare
- Robert Burns Country: O Tibbie, I Hae Seen The Day:
- An Old Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head by William Shakespeare
- The Bwoat by William Barnes
- In the Carpenter’s Shop by Sara Teasdale
- Владимир Гиляровский – Грядущее
- Владимир Корнилов – На колоннаде
- Владимир Высоцкий – Заказал я два коктейля
- These nights by Manushya Puthiran
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
- Upon The Sight Of A Beautiful Picture Painted By Sir G. H. Beaumont, Bart by William Wordsworth
- To The Small Celandine by William Wordsworth
- To The Poet, John Dyer by William Wordsworth
- To Sleep by William Wordsworth
- To Sir George Howland Beaumont, Bart From the South-West Coast Or Cumberland 1811 by William Wordsworth
- To Joanna by William Wordsworth
- To A Young Lady Who Had Been Reproached For Taking Long Walks In The Country by William Wordsworth
- To a Sky-Lark by William Wordsworth
- ‘Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love by William Wordsworth
- The Vaudois by William Wordsworth
- The Two Thieves; Or, The Last Stage Of Avarice by William Wordsworth
- The Two April Mornings by William Wordsworth
- The Thorn by William Wordsworth
- The Tables Turned by William Wordsworth
- The Sun Has Long Been Set by William Wordsworth
- The Stars Are Mansions Built By Nature’s Hand by William Wordsworth
- The Sparrow’s Nest by William Wordsworth
- The Solitary Reaper by William Wordsworth
- The Simplon Pass by William Wordsworth
- The Shepherd, Looking Eastward, Softly Said by William Wordsworth
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.