A poem by Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000)
by Alec Derwent Hope
Year after year the princess lies asleep
Until the hundred years foretold are done,
Easily drawing her enchanted breath.
Caught on the monstrous thorns around the keep,
Bones of the youths who sought her, one by one
Rot loose and rattle to the ground beneath.
But when the Destined Lover at last shall come,
For whom alone Fortune reserves the prize
The thorns give way; he mounts the cobwebbed stair
Unerring he finds the tower, the door, the room,
The bed where, waking at his kiss she lies
Smiling in the loose fragrance of her hair.
That night, embracing on the bed of state,
He ravishes her century of sleep
And she repays the debt of that long dream;
Future and Past compose their vast debate;
His seed now sown, her harvest ripe to reap
Enact a variation on the theme.
For in her womb another princess waits,
A sleeping cell, a globule of bright dew.
Jostling their way up that mysterious stair,
A horde of lovers bursts between the gates,
All doomed but one, the destined suitor, who
By luck first reaches her and takes her there.
A parable of all we are or do!
The life of Nature is a formal dance
In which each step is ruled by what has been
And yet the pattern emerges always new
The marriage of linked cause and random chance
Gives birth perpetually to the unforeseen.
One parable for the body and the mind:
With science and heredity to thank
The heart is quite predictable as a pump,
But, let love change its beat, the choice is blind.
‘Now’ is a cross-roads where all maps prove blank,
And no one knows which way the cat will jump.
So here stand I, by birth a cross between
Determined pattern and incredible chance,
Each with an equal share in what I am.
Though I should read the code stored in the gene,
Yet the blind lottery of circumstance
Mocks all solutions to its cryptogram.
As in my flesh, so in my spirit stand I
When does this hundred years draw to its close?
The hedge of thorns before me gives no clue.
My predecessor’s carcass, shrunk and dry,
Stares at me through the spikes. Oh well, here goes!
I have this thing, and only this, to do.
A few random poems:
- Robert Burns: Address Of Beelzebub: To the Right Honourable the Earl of Breadalbane, President of the Right Honourable and Honourable the Highland Society, which met on the 23rd of May last at the Shakespeare, Covent Garden, to concert ways and means to frustrate the designs of five hundred Highlanders, who, as the Society were informed by Mr. M’Kenzie of Applecross, were so audacious as to attempt an escape from their lawful lords and masters whose property they were, by emigrating from the lands of Mr. Macdonald of Glengary to the wilds of Canada, in search of that fantastic thing-Liberty.
- To Sleep by William Wordsworth
- When The Green Lies Over The Earth poem – Angelina Weld Grimke poems | Poems and Poetry
- A Fable by William Cowper
- London, 1802 by William Wordsworth
- Владимир Корнилов – Надежда
- Robert Burns: Thou Gloomy December :
- On the Countess of Burlington Cutting Paper poem – Alexander Pope
- Lodged by Robert Frost
- Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women by Anne Sexton
- William Henry Davies
- Низами Гянджеви – Не горюй, ибо друг есть
- From Menander by William Cowper
- These Green-Going-to-Yellow by Marvin Bell
- Wherever You Go, There You Are by Ryssel Guzman
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
- Not out of the running by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- Nevertheless by Marianne Moore
- Nearly A Valediction by Marilyn Hacker
- My Mother’s Body by Marge Piercy
- My Daughter at 14, Christmas Dance, 1981 by Maria Mazziotti Gillan
- Morning News by Marilyn Hacker
- Love Poem to My Husband of Thirty-one Years by Maria Mazziotti Gillan
- Locked Away by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- Labyrinth by Sera Jacob
- Iva’s Pantoum by Marilyn Hacker
- Island-Hearth by M. Ivana Trevisani Bach
- Irish Love Song by Margaret Widdemer
- Invocation by Marilyn Hacker
- If you should tire of loving me by Margaret Widdemer
- I Dream of my Grandmother and Great-Grandmother by Maria Mazziotti Gillan
- I Deserve It by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- Hurry by Marie Howe
- He Made This Screen by Marianne Moore
- Forever Closed by Margaret Marie Hubbard
- For the Young Who Want To by Marge Piercy
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
Alec Derwent-Hope (1907–2000) was an Australian poet and essayist known for his satirical slant. He was also a critic, teacher and academic.