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:
- Michael: A Pastoral Poem by William Wordsworth
- Константин Бальмонт – Мы прячем, душим тонкой сетью лжи
- To Charles Cowden Clarke poem – John Keats poems
- The Wanderings of Oisin: Book II by William Butler Yeats
- To a Pupil. by Walt Whitman
- So Small, So Vital
- Dedication To Lady Windsor poem – Alfred Austin
- Владимир Британишский – Быт
- Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none by William Shakespeare
- Zero by Robert Creeley
- What’s wrong with volunteering?
- English Poetry. David Herbert Lawrence. Whales Weep Not!. Дэвид Герберт Лоуренс.
- Passion by Sera Jacob
- Ольга Седакова – Ангел Реймса
- I Loved
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
- Readen Ov A Head-Stwone by William Barnes
- “The Girt Woak Tree That’s In the Dell” by William Barnes
- Praise O’ Do’set by William Barnes
- Polly Be-en Upzides Wi’ Tom by William Barnes
- Poll’s Jack-Daw by William Barnes
- A Pleäce In Zight by William Barnes
- Pentridge By The River by William Barnes
- Out At Plough by William Barnes
- Out A-Nuttèn by William Barnes
- Our Father’s Works by William Barnes
- Our Be’thplace by William Barnes
- Our Abode In Arby Wood by William Barnes
- Not Goo Hwome To-Night by William Barnes
- Night A-Zetten In by William Barnes
- Nanny’s New Abode by William Barnes
- Nanny’s Cow by William Barnes
- Naighbour Pla Meätes by William Barnes
- My Love’s Guardian Angel by William Barnes
- My Love Is Good by William Barnes
- Mornèn by William Barnes
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.