A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)
I to the open road,
You to the hunchbacked street –
Which of us two
Shall the earlier rue
That day we chanced to meet?
I with a heart that’s sound,
You with sick fancies of pain –
Which of us two
Would the earlier rue
If we chanced to meet again?
I jingle homely lore,
While you rhyme is with kiss –
Which of us two
Will the earlier rue
The love of the Hoylake Miss?
Not I the first to go,
Nor I the first to deceive –
Which of us two
Shall the the earliest rue
Our garden of make-believe?
You were a Chinese god,
I an offering fair,
As we entered the
Garden of Allah,
To sing our holy prayer.
Entered with hearts bowed low,
Yet I heard a voice that cried:
For he is the god of the
Sacrifice,
You are the crucified.
It was all make-believe,
A foolish game of play,
Our garden of Allah
A drawing-room,
Our Chinese god of clay.
Strings of bruises for pearls,
Tears for forget-me-nots,
And a deadly pain
Of the sickening shame
Watching the fading spots.
As quickly they faded,
The heart of me faded as well,
Until nothing is left
Of my garden,
But a soul sunk to hell.
Hail!
Poet prend ton lute -Je disparaire,
No more together we’ll enter the
Enchanted garden of make-believe,
Nor my sad soul listen while thine deceive.
No more you’ll be the God of Sacrifice,
Nor I the crucified.
Ah, Garden of Allah -how bitter sweet
Thy fruit. Why breakest thou the heart?
Why spoilest thou the soul with notes
From thy golden lute?
Lo! our garden a common room
Our Chinese god burnt clay, and
The singing of verses a funeral hymn
That awakes with awakening day.
‘Twas all such a meaningless play,
Poet prend ton lute -Je disparaitre.
Hail!
Poet, take my hand -we’ll walk
Still a little way.
I’ll not desert thee at the close of day,
I, too, must pray.
A beggar asking alms of passers-by,
Does not refuse a drink to one who’s dry
That once by him did lie.
Poet, come close -before I leave for aye
Take thou my hand, we’ll walk still
A little way.
One garment covered both to keep us warm,
What harmed the one, was’t not the other’s harm?
Close clasped, one single form.
Was it not meant of aye?
Poet, take thou my hand -we’ll still
Walk a little way.
A few random poems:
- The Monkey by Shel Silverstein
- Barnfloor and Winepress poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Grammar Lesson by Steve Kowit
- If by Rudyard Kipling
- Paradise Lost: Book 11 poem – John Milton poems
- On the Birth of a Posthumous Child by Robert Burns
- Федор Сологуб – Скупа Филис, но пыл мятежный
- Sonnet LVIII by William Shakespeare
- Little Fugue by Sylvia Plath
- The Travail Of Passion by William Butler Yeats
- Light Or Sheäde by William Barnes
- The Connaught Rangers by Winifred Mary Letts
- A Dream Of Venice
- After The Visit by Thomas Hardy
- Василий Тредиаковский – В сем озере бедные любовники
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
- Otho The Great – Act II poem – John Keats poems
- Otho The Great – Act I poem – John Keats poems
- On Visiting The Tomb Of Burns poem – John Keats poems
- On Receiving A Laurel Crown From Leigh Hunt poem – John Keats poems
- On Receiving A Curious Shell poem – John Keats poems
- On Hearing The Bag-Pipe And Seeing “The Stranger” Played At Inverary poem – John Keats poems
- On Death poem – John Keats poems
- On A Dream poem – John Keats poems
- Ode. Written On The Blank Page Before Beaumont And Fletcher’s Tragi-Comedy ‘The Fair Maid Of The In poem – John Keats poems
- Ode To Apollo poem – John Keats poems
- O Blush Not So! poem – John Keats poems
- Lines Written In The Highlands After A Visit To Burns’s Country poem – John Keats poems
- Lines To Fanny poem – John Keats poems
- Lines Rhymed In A Letter From Oxford poem – John Keats poems
- Lines On Seeing A Lock Of Milton’s Hair poem – John Keats poems
- Lamia. Part II poem – John Keats poems
- Lamia. Part I poem – John Keats poems
- King Stephen poem – John Keats poems
- Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio poem – John Keats poems
- I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill poem – John Keats poems
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
