“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:
- Как небо сходится с водой
- Омар Хайям о Боге и религии: Рубаи, стихи Хайяма про Бога – Poetry Monster
- The Sanctuary by Sara Teasdale
- The Seven Sages by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Маяковский – Успокоилась Франция, злобой не пышет… (РОСТА №625)
- Psalm 04 poem – John Milton poems
- Владимир Британишский – На берегу
- Robert Burns: The Braw Wooer:
- Love Sonnet XV poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
- Огюст Барбье – Зеленая Дева
- Goliath Of Gath by Phillis Wheatley
- When Gassy Thompson Struck It Rich by Vachel Lindsay
- Letter To A Purist by Sylvia Plath
- The Sky A-Clearen by William Barnes
- Tartary by Walter de la Mare
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
- Early summer rain by Yosa Buson
- Dawn by Yosa Buson
- Coolness by Yosa Buson
- Calligraphy of geese by Yosa Buson
- Buying leeks by Yosa Buson
- Blown from the west by Yosa Buson
- Blow of an ax by Yosa Buson
- Before the white chrysanthemum by Yosa Buson
- A bat flits by Yosa Buson
- Untitled XXVII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXVI by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXI by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XVIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XVII by Yunus Emre
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