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:
- Venetian Glass poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Content Written Off Ithica poem – Alfred Austin
- Юлия Друнина – В манеже
- The Bonnie Earl Moray poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Mary’s Song by Sylvia Plath
- Inflexible As Fate poem – Alfred Austin
- Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends by William Shakespeare
- Evening balcony by Vladimir Marku
- Mortal Limit by Robert Penn Warren
- The Dawn by William Butler Yeats
- Eight O’Clock by Sara Teasdale
- The Bride poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Dilton Marsh Halt poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
- Be’mi’ster by William Barnes
- To a Virtuous Young Lady poem – John Milton 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
- Resolution And Independence by William Wordsworth
- Repentance by William Wordsworth
- Remembrance Of by William Wordsworth
- Power Of Music by William Wordsworth
- Picture of Daniel in the Lion’s Den at Hamilton Palace by William Wordsworth
- Personal Talk by William Wordsworth
- On The Same Occasion by William Wordsworth
- On The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese by William Wordsworth
- On the Extinction of the Venetian Republic by William Wordsworth
- On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott from Abbotsford by William Wordsworth
- On A Celebrated Event In Ancient History by William Wordsworth
- O’erweening Statesmen Have Full Long Relied by William Wordsworth
- O’er The Wide Earth, On Mountain And On Plain by William Wordsworth
- Ode by William Wordsworth
- Ode To Lycoris. May 1817 by William Wordsworth
- Ode to Duty by William Wordsworth
- Ode Composed On A May Morning by William Wordsworth
- October, 1803 by William Wordsworth
- Occasioned By The Battle Of Waterloo February 1816 by William Wordsworth
- O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art by William Wordsworth
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)
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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
