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!

A few random poems:
- CAESAR’S LAST BREATH by MICHAEL SALCMAN
- Аля Кудряшева – Меня мотает тянет ведет налево
- Ode to H.H. The Nizam Of Hyderabad by Sarojini Naidu
- THE WAX PALACE by Satish Verma
- Autumn by Stevie Smith
- Anchor Song by Rudyard Kipling
- Николай Карамзин – Рогатому человеку
- Владимир Маяковский – Слегка нахальные стихи товарищам из ЭМКАХИ
- Владимир Британишский – На берегу
- Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Мелочи жизни
- Robert Burns: Tragic Fragment:
- Владимир Маяковский – Тебе тепло?.. (РОСТА №599)
- Anarchy by Satish Verma
- Ballade Of The Dream poem – Andrew Lang poems
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
- Sonnet 71: No longer mourn for me when I am dead by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 6: Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 68: Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 64: When I have seen by Time’s fell hand defaced by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be, as I am now by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 62: Sin of self-love possesseth all mine eye by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 61: Is it thy will thy image should keep open by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 5: Those hours, that with gentle work did frame by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 57: Being your slave, what should I do but tend by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 56: Sweet love, renew thy force, be it not said by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 55: Not marble, nor the gilded monuments by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 95: How sweet and lovely dost thou make the shame by William Shakespeare
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.