Ojira To Her Lover

I am waiting in the desert, looking out towards the sunset,

And counting every moment till we meet.

I am waiting by the marshes and I tremble and I listen

Till the soft sands thrill beneath your coming feet.

Till I see you, tall and slender, standing clear against the skyline

A graceful shade across the lingering red,

While your hair the breezes ruffle, turns to silver in the twilight,

And makes a fair faint aureole round your head.

Far away towards the sunset I can see a narrow river,

That unwinds itself in red tranquillity;

I can hear its rippled meeting, and the gurgle of its greeting,

As it mingles with the loved and long sought sea.

In the purple sky above me showing dark against the starlight,

Long wavering flights of homeward birds fly low,

They cry each one to the other, and their weird and wistful calling,

Makes most melancholy music as they go.

Oh, my dearest hasten, hasten! It is lonely here. Already

Have I heard the jackals’ first assembling cry,

And among the purple shadows of the mangroves and the marshes

Fitful echoes of their footfalls passing by.

Ah, come soon! my arms are empty, and so weary for your beauty,

I am thirsty for the music of your voice.

Come to make the marshes joyous with the sweetness of your presence,

Let your nearing feet bid all the sands rejoice!

My hands, my lips are feverish with the longing and the waiting

And no softness of the twilight soothes their heat,

Till I see your radiant eyes, shining stars beneath the starlight,

Till I kiss the slender coolness of your feet.

Ah, loveliest, most reluctant, when you lay yourself beside me

All the planets reel around me–fade away,

And the sands grow dim, uncertain,–I stretch out my hands towards you

While I try to speak but know not what I say!

I am faint with love and longing, and my burning eyes are gazing

Where the furtive Jackals wage their famished strife,

Oh, your shadow on the mangroves! and your step upon the sandhills,–

This is the loveliest evening of my Life!

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Poems in English 

• At the Party by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Old People’s Home by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• O What Is That Sound by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• O Tell Me The Truth About Love by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Nocturne by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• A New Age by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Like A Vocation by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Let A Florid Music Praise by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Law, Like Love by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• At Last the Secret is Out by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Lady Weeping at the Crossroads by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• It’s No Use Raising A Shout by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• In the Time of War, XII by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• In Praise Of Limestone by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Here War Is Simple by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Give me a doctor by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• from The Cave of Making by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• from In Time of War by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Friday’s Child by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)
• Friday’s Child by W H Auden by Wystan Hugh Auden (W.H. Auden)

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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.

 

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