“My heritage!” It is to live within
The marts of Pleasure and of Gain, yet be
No willing worshiper at either shrine;
To think, and speak, and act, not for my pleasure,
But others’. The veriest slave of time
And circumstances. Fortune’s toy!
To hear of fraud, injustice, and oppression,
And feel who is the unshielded victim.
Cold friends and causeless foes!
Proud thoughts that rise to fall.
Bright stars that set in seas of blood;
Affections, which are passions, lava-like
Destroying what they rest upon. Love’s
Fond and fervid tide preparing icebergs
That fragile bark, this loving human heart.
O’ermastering Pride!
Ruler of the Soul!
Life, with all its changes, cannot bow ye.
Soul-subduing Poverty!
That lays his iron, cold grasp upon the high
Free spirit: strength, sorrow-born, that bends
But breaks not in his clasp-all, all
These are “my heritage!”
And mine to know a reckless human love, all passion and intensity, and see a mist come o’er the scene, a dimness steal o’er the soul!
Mine to dream of joy and wake to wretchedness!
Mine to stand on the brink of life
One little moment where the fresh’ning breeze
Steals o’er the languid lip and brow, telling
Of forest leaf, and ocean wave, and happy
Homes, and cheerful toil; and bringing gently
To this wearied heart its long-forgotten
Dreams of gladness.
But turning the fevered cheek to meet the soft kiss of the winds, my eyes look to the sky, where I send up my soul in thanks. The sky is clouded-no stars-no music -the heavens are hushed.
My poor soul comes back to me, weary and disappointed.
The very breath of heaven, that comes to all, comes not to me.
Bound in iron gyves of unremitting toil, my vital air is wretchedness-what need I any other?
“My heritage!” The shrouded eye, the trampled leaf, wind-driven and soiled with dust-these tell the tale.
Mine to watch
The glorious light of intellect
Burn dimly, and expire; and mark the soul,
Though born in Heaven, pause in its high career,
Wave in its course, and fall to grovel in
The darkness of earth’s contamination, till
Even Death shall scorn to give a thing
o low his welcome greeting!
Who would be that pale,
Blue mist, that hangs so low in air, like Hope
That has abandoned earth, yet reacheth
Not the stars in their proud homes?
A dying eagle, striving to reach the sun?
A little child talking to the gay clouds as they flaunt past in their purple and crimson robes?
A timid little flower singing to the grand old trees?
Foolish waves, leaping up and trying to kiss the moon?
A little bird mocking the stars?
Yet this is what men call Genius.
A few random poems:
- Иван Варавва – Раскинет объятия поле
- Ольга Берггольц – Пахнет соснами, гарью, тленьем
- Tommy by Rudyard Kipling
- E.P. Ode Pour L’election De Son Sepulchre poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Shema by Primo Levi
- Ольга Берггольц – Я иду по местам боев
- Alicante Lullaby by Sylvia Plath
- Валерий Брюсов – И он взглянул, и ты уснула, и он ушел, и умер день
- The Hon. Sec. poem – John Betjeman poems
- Николай Карамзин – Рогатому человеку
- Unstitching by Satish Verma
- Ольга Седакова – С нежностью и глубиной
- Abuses and Awards poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Haunted by you by Melissa Skelton
- ‘Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love by William Wordsworth
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
- To an Early Daffodil poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- To a Friend poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Thompson’s Lunch Room – Grand Central Station poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Way poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Trout poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Tree of Scarlet Berries poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Temple poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Taxi poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Shadow poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Road to Avignon poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Red Lacquer Music-Stand poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Promise of the Morning Star poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Precinct. Rochester poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Pleiades poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Pike poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Paper Windmill poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Fruit Garden Path poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Forsaken poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Foreigner poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Fool Errant poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
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
Adah Isaacs Menken (1835 – 1868) was an American actress and a performer, who painted painter and wrote a number of poems (31 published so far). She was supposedly the highest earning actress of her time. She was best known for her performance in the hippodrama Mazeppa (with libretto based on Pushkin’s work), it is said that the climax of the spectacle featured her apparently nude and riding a horse on stage. After great success for a few years with the play in New York and San Francisco, she appeared in a production in London and Paris, from 1864 to 1866. She was a friend of Alexander Dumas. Adah Menken died in Paris at the age of 33