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:
- Николай Языков – Весна
- Power of Peace by Rixa White
- Юлий Даниэль – Друзьям
- Diary of a Palestinian Wound by Mahmoud Darwish
- Илья Эренбург – Круг
- At the Top of My voice by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- On the Idle Hill of Summer by A. E. Housman
- five moons for earth by Raj Arumugam
- To A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses poem – John Keats poems
- Михаил Ломоносов – Лишь только дневной шум замолк
- Monument by Satish Verma
- I Went Down into the Desert by Vachel Lindsay
- A King’s Soliloquy [On the Night of His Funeral] by Thomas Hardy
- Trial by Ruth Padel
- Михаил Лермонтов – Блистая, пробегают облака
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
- In A Restaurant by Sara Teasdale
- In A Railroad Station by Sara Teasdale
- In A Garden by Sara Teasdale
- In A Cuban Garden by Sara Teasdale
- “If I Must Go” by Sara Teasdale
- I Would Live In Your Love by Sara Teasdale
- “I Know The Stars” by Sara Teasdale
- Helen Of Troy by Sara Teasdale
- Grandfather’s Love by Sara Teasdale
- In A Garden by Sara Teasdale
- Galahad In The Castle Of The Maidens by Sara Teasdale
- From The Woolworth Tower by Sara Teasdale
- From The North by Sara Teasdale
- For The Anniversary Of John Keats’ Death by Sara Teasdale
- Eight O’Clock by Sara Teasdale
- Effigy Of A Nun by Sara Teasdale
- Dusk In War Time by Sara Teasdale
- Dusk In June by Sara Teasdale
- Dusk In Autumn by Sara Teasdale
- Deep In The Night by Sara Teasdale
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.