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:
- On Looking Up By Chance At The Constellations by Robert Frost
- A winning lot
- Listen To The Mustn’ts by Shel Silverstein
- Epitaphs Translated From Chiabrera by William Wordsworth
- “Look up, desponding hearts! See, Morning sallies” poem – Alfred Austin
- as_with_a_senryu_s_hardening_ridge.html
- Mary, Pity Women! by Rudyard Kipling
- Иннокентий Анненский – Леконт де Лиль. Из стихотворения «Призраки»
- Dining-Room Tea by Rupert Brooke
- Old Man Poet by Raj Arumugam
- The house where I was born (04) by Yves Bonnefoy
- My Sad Self poem – Allen Ginsberg
- Зинаида Александрова – Прятки
- Storm-Racked poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Омар Хайям о людях: Стихи, рубаи о человеке Омара Хайяма – Poetry Monster
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
- England! The Time Is Come When Thou Should’st Wean by William Wordsworth
- Emperors And Kings, How Oft Have Temples Rung by William Wordsworth
- Ellen Irwin Or The Braes Of Kirtle by William Wordsworth
- Elegiac Stanzas Suggested By A Picture Of Peele Castle by William Wordsworth
- Dion [See Plutarch] by William Wordsworth
- Crusaders by William Wordsworth
- Composed While The Author Was Engaged In Writing A Tract Occasioned By The Convention Of Cintra by William Wordsworth
- Composed Upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed on The Eve Of The Marriage Of A Friend In The Vale Of Grasmere by William Wordsworth
- Composed Near Calais, On The Road Leading To Ardres, August 7, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed In The Valley Near Dover, On The Day Of Landing by William Wordsworth
- Composed During A Storm by William Wordsworth
- Composed By The Side Of Grasmere Lake 1806 by William Wordsworth
- Composed By The Sea-Side, Near Calais, August 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Composed At The Same Time And On The Same Occasion by William Wordsworth
- Composed After A Journey Across The Hambleton Hills, Yorkshire by William Wordsworth
- Characteristics Of A Child Three Years Old by William Wordsworth
- Character Of The Happy Warrior by William Wordsworth
- Calm is all Nature as a Resting Wheel. by William Wordsworth
- “Call Not The Royal Swede Unfortunate” 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)
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
