A poem by Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000)
by Alec Derwent Hope
To be put on the train and kissed and given my ticket,
Then the station slid backward, the shops and the neon lighting,
Reeling off in a drunken blur, with a whole pound note in my pocket
And the holiday packed with Perhaps. It used to be very exciting.
The present and past were enough. I did not mind having my back
To the engine. I sat like a spider and spun
Time backward out of my guts; or rather my eyes; and the track
Was a Now dwindling off to oblivion. I thought it was fun:
The telegraph poles slithered up in a sudden crescendo
As we sliced the hill and scattered its grazing sheep;
The days were a wheeling delirium that led without end to
Nights when we plunged into roaring tunnels of sleep.
But now I am tired of the train. I have learned that one tree
Is much like another, one hill the dead spit of the next
I have seen tailing off behind all the various types of country
Like a clock running down. I am bored and a little perplexed;
And weak with the effort of endless evacuation
Of the long monotonous Now, the repetitive, tidy
Officialdom of each siding, of each little station
Labelled Monday, Tuesday; and goodness ! what happened to; Friday ?
And the maddening way the other passengers alter:
The schoolgirl who goes to the Ladies’ comes back to her seat
A lollipop blonde who leads you on to assault her,
And you’ve just got her skirts round her waist and her pants round her feet
When you find yourself fumbling about the nightmare knees
Of a pink hippopotamus with a permanent wave
Who sends you for sandwiches and a couple of teas,
But by then she has whiskers, no teeth and one foot in the grave.
I have lost my faith that the ticket tells where we are going.
There are rumours the driver is mad; we are all being trucked
To the abattoirs somewhere; the signals are jammed and unknowing
We aim through the night full speed at a wrecked viaduct.
But I do not believe them. The future is rumour and drivel;
Only the past is assured. From the observation car
I stand looking back and watching the landscape shrivel,
Wondering where we are going and just where the hell we are,
Remembering how I planned to break the journey, to drive
My own car one day, to have choice in my hands and my foot upon power,
To see through the trumpet throat of vertiginous perspective
My urgent Now explode continually into flower,
To be the Eater of Time, a poet and not that sly
Anus of mind the historian. It was so simple and plain
To live by the sole, insatiable influx of the eye.
But something went wrong with the plan: I am still on the train.
A few random poems:
- A November Note poem – Alfred Austin
- Stand-To: Good Friday Morning by Siegfried Sassoon
- Владимир Высоцкий – Не могу ни выпить, ни забыться
- Николай Карамзин – К самому себе
- Николай Заболоцкий – Я не ищу гармонии в природе
- Buried Love by Sara Teasdale
- In Jerusalem by Mahmoud Darwish
- Иван Варавва – Мать Кубань
- My Child Wafts Peace by Yehuda Amichai
- Кариночка, любимая ты наша
- Юлия Друнина – Забытая тетрадь, Истертые листы
- Love Flower
- Олег Бундур – Почему собаки дерутся
- Алексей Жемчужников – Прелюдия к прощальным песням
- Василий Курочкин – Как не вскрикнуть тут с поэтом
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
- Ольга Седакова – Баллада
- Ольга Седакова – Азаровка
- Ольга Седакова – Ангел Реймса
- Ольга Седакова – Актеон
- Ольга Повещенко – Фотограф смотрит в объектив
- Ольга Ермолаева – За Волгой, ударившись озем
- Ольга Ермолаева – Я так же, как ты, от стыда опускаю ресницы
- Ольга Ермолаева – Всю эту печаль невозможно вместить целиком
- Ольга Ермолаева – Вот сойдешь с ума и станешь Юрия
- Ольга Ермолаева – В кирзовых сапогах скользить по горной глине
- Ольга Ермолаева – Ты где летал, мой падающий с Фанских гор
- Ольга Ермолаева – Симферопольский скорый
- Ольга Ермолаева – Псевдоготика для русских романтических сердец
- Ольга Ермолаева – Просила тебя у мертвой и выпросила у мертвой
- Ольга Ермолаева – Напиши мне стишок
- Ольга Ермолаева – На каблуках-то и то к голове удалой
- Ольга Ермолаева – Мир неприбран, подозрителен
- Ольга Ермолаева – Когда распрямлюсь, озирая работу мою
- Ольга Ермолаева – Герасим Грачевник
- Ольга Ермолаева – Этот позорный ужас
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

Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000) was an Australian poet and essayist known for his satirical slant. He was also a critic, teacher and academic.