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:
- Василий Курочкин – Поэту адвокату
- The Welshnut Tree by William Barnes
- Владимир Лифшиц – Грустная шутка
- Last Words by Philip Levine
- Владимир Маяковский – По городам Союза
- Олег Бундур – В огороде
- God fashioned the ship of the world carefully. by Stephen Crane
- Владимир Высоцкий – Нет рядом никого, как ни дыши
- Jonathan: The First Booke by William Alexander
- Ad Nepotem by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Владимир Степанов – Двенадцать месяцев
- Into My Heart an Air that Kills poem – A. E. Housman
- Нина Гаген-Торн – Возвращение
- To My Brother by Siegfried Sassoon
- Song Of The Colours By Taj Mahomed
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
- Any Soul That Drank the Nectar by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Any Lifetime by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- All through eternity by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- A Moment Of Happiness by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- The Storm by Rainbow Reed
- The Mystic Isle by Rainbow Reed
- The Chipmunk by R. L. Karlowsky
- The Sandbox by Rachel McKibbens
- Since you asked by Radames Antonio Cruz
- Primrose Rose by Rainbow Reed
- Prayers by Rainbow Reed
- Snow & Ice by Quincy Troupe
- Untitled by Quincy Troupe
- Poem Reaching For Something by Quincy Troupe
- I Hardly Remember by Rafael Guillen
- Not Fear by Rafael Guillen
- Online Lover by Rainbow Reed
- One Day You Will Miss Me.. by Rahul S
- O my Lord by Rabi’a
- Not Fear by Rafael Guillen
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.