Love, let me thank you for this!
Now we have drifted apart,
Wandered away from the sea,–
For the fresh touch of your kiss,
For the young warmth of your heart,
For your youth given to me.
Thanks: for the curls of your hair,
Softer than silk to the hand,
For the clear gaze of your eyes.
For yourself: delicate, fair,
Seen as you lay on the sand,
Under the violet skies.
Thanks: for the words that you said,–
Secretly, tenderly sweet,
All through the tropical day,
Till, when the sunset was red,
I, who lay still at your feet,
Felt my life ebbing away,
Weary and worn with desire,
Only yourself could console.
Love let me thank you for this!
For that fierce fervour and fire
Burnt through my lips to my soul
From the white heat of your kiss!
You were the essence of Spring,
Wayward and bright as a flame:
Though we have drifted apart,
Still how the syllables sing
Mixed in your musical name,
Deep in the well of my heart!
Once in the lingering light,
Thrown from the west on the Sea,
Laid you your garments aside,
Slender and goldenly bright,
Glimmered your beauty, set free,
Bright as a pearl in the tide.
Once, ere the thrill of the dawn
Silvered the edge of the sea,
I, who lay watching you rest,–
Pale in the chill of the morn
Found you still dreaming of me
Stilled by love’s fancies possessed.
Fallen on sorrowful days,
Love, let me thank you for this,
You were so happy with me!
Wrapped in Youth’s roseate haze,
Wanting no more than my kiss
By the blue edge of the sea!
Ah, for those nights on the sand
Under the palms by the sea,
For the strange dream of those days
Spent in the passionate land,
For your youth given to me,
I am your debtor always!
A few random poems:
- Омар Хайям – Да пребудет вино неразлучно с тобой
- Second Poem by Peter Orlovsky
- Sonnet 16: But wherefore do not you a mightier way by William Shakespeare
- Федор Сологуб – Во мне мечты мои цветут
- Иван Бунин – Надпись на могильной плите
- Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Spenserian Stanza. Written At The Close Of Canto II, Book V, Of “The Faerie Queene” poem – John Keats poems
- Its gonna be sunday by Shailendra Singh
- Шекспир – Пример тебе подобной красоты – Сонет 84
- Наум Коржавин – От дурачеств, от ума ли
- Федор Сологуб – Там, внизу, костры горели
- May You Be Like An Evergreen by Ronald G. Auguste
- To poem – John Keats poems
- the_emigrant.html
- Brought From Beyond poem – Amy Clampitt poems | Poems and Poetry
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
- Waking In March by Philip Levine
- Told by Philip Levine
- They Feed They Lion by Philip Levine
- Then by Philip Levine
- The New World by Philip Levine
- The Helmet by Philip Levine
- The Distant Winter by Philip Levine
- Gangrene by Philip Levine
- Noon by Philip Levine
- Making Light Of It by Philip Levine
- Making It Work by Philip Levine
- Magpiety by Philip Levine
- Mad Day In March by Philip Levine
- M. Degas Teaches Art & Science At Durfee Intermediate School–Detroit, 1942 by Philip Levine
- Late Moon by Philip Levine
- Late Light by Philip Levine
- Last Words by Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
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.