Oh, Life, I have taken you for my Lover,
I rent your veils and I found you fair ;
If a fault or failing my eyes discover,
I will not see it; it is not there !
I know, if I knew, I should hold you dearer,
Should understand, if I understood,
For I worship more, as you draw me nearer,
Your reckless Evil, your perfect Good.
In the Jungle gloom, we have watched and waited,
For stealthy Panthers, that prowl by night,
At the end of some weary march, belated,
We heard strange tales by the camp-fire light.
We have lain on the starlit sands, untented,
While low-hung planets rose white and fair,
And in moonlit gardens, silver and scented,
Oh, Life, my Lover, how sweet you were !
Forbidden and barbarous rites were shown us,
In rock-hewn Temples and jungle caves,
And the smoke-wreathed home of the dead has known us,
The burning-ghat by the Ganges waves
Ah, the long, lone ride through the starlit hours,
The long, lone watch on the starlit sea,
And the flame and flush of the morning flowers
When Life, my Lover, was kind to me !
Betimes we were out on the Sea, together;
The vessel raced down the great green slope
Of mountainous waves, in desperate weather ;
The hearts of men were adrift from hope.
As over the deck, in exultant fashion,
The violent water crashed and fell,
I knew, through the joy of your reckless passion,
Agonised fear of the last farewell.
But I follow you always, unresisting,
To lowest depth ; to uttermost brink,
From a thirst like mine there is no desisting
Though given poison for wine to drink.
You may do your utmost, you will not shake me,
Your faith may falter ; my faith is true.
Oh, Life, you may shatter and rend and break me,
All Pain is Pleasure, that springs from you !
In the height and heat of your wildest passion,
You had your uttermost will of me,
And when have I asked for the least compassion ?
A lover loved is a lover free !
Though, with never a word of farewell spoken
In lonely wilds of some Desert place,
You have flung me from you, adrift and broken,
To wait the child of your last embrace.
And never my faith nor my fervour faltered,
Until you turned to my lips again,
When, my eager longing for you unaltered
Your first kiss cancelled my months of pain.
Ah, Life, you may torture my soul, betray me,
The right is yours, as Lover and Lord.
And when in the climax of all, you slay me,
My lips in dying will seek your sword.
A few random poems:
- Wisteria by Philip Levine
- ” When in the long–drawn avenues of Thought” poem – Alfred Austin
- mine danse macabre doppelganger by matthew scott harris
- What a Glow Everywhere I see – Aaj Rung Hai poem – with a translation Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- The Blues by William Matthews
- Robert Burns: The Fete Champetre:
- Константин Бальмонт – Эльзи
- Orlando Furioso Canto 5 by Ludovico Ariosto
- Doggerel by a Senior Citizen by W H Auden
- Shepherd And Goatherd by William Butler Yeats
- Robert Burns: Yon Wild Mossy Mountains:
- Resolved Be Loved
- Stones
- The Home by Rabindranath Tagore
- Степан Щипачев – Высота
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
- Robert Burns: Sappho Redivivus: Fragment
- Robert Burns: Pegasus At Wanlockhead:
- Robert Burns: Ode, Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald Of Auchencruive:
- Robert Burns: Robin Shure In Hairst:
- Robert Burns: Versicles On Sign-Posts :
- Robert Burns: The Henpecked Husband:
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Year 1788:
- Robert Burns: The Poet’s Progress : A Poem In Embryo
- Robert Burns: Written In Friars Carse Hermitage: On Nithside
- Robert Burns: The Parting Kiss:
- Robert Burns: My Bonie Mary:
- Robert Burns: Auld Lang Syne:
- Robert Burns: It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face:
- Robert Burns: I Reign In Jeanie’s Bosom:
- Robert Burns: The Fall Of The Leaf:
- Robert Burns: A Mother’s Lament For the Death of Her Son.:
- Robert Burns: O, Were I On Parnassus Hill:
- Robert Burns: The Day Returns:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry: Requesting a Favour
- Robert Burns: The Fete Champetre:
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.