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:
- O Sing, Fair Lady, When With Me poem – Alexander Pushkin
- On the late Captain Grose’s Peregrinations by Robert Burns
- A Carol of Harvest, for 1867 by Walt Whitman
- If I could tell you by W. H. Auden
- Beyond the Moon by Vachel Lindsay
- Harvest moon by Yosa Buson
- Sonnet 8: Music to hear, why hear’st thou music sadly? by William Shakespeare
- Free the Holy Land — a poem about Palestine
- Илья Эренбург – О Москве
- America by Tony Hoagland
- Владимир Высоцкий – Запись в книге почётных гостей Киевского завода шампанских вин
- Illusions by Mark R Slaughter
- Be Lost In The Call by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Владимир Маяковский – Что делать, чтоб сытому быть?.. (РОСТА №219)
- Иннокентий Анненский – Леконт де Лиль. Огненная жертва
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
- In Commendation Of Musick by William Strode
- Her Epitaph by William Strode
- For A Gentleman, Who, Kissinge His Friend At His Departure Left A Signe Of Blood On Her by William Strode
- Epitaph On Mr. Bridgeman by William Strode
- Consolatorium, Ad Parentes by William Strode
- Chloris in the Snow by William Strode
- Anthem For Good Fryday by William Strode
- An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron by William Strode
- An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode
- An Eare-Stringe by William Strode
- An Antheme by William Strode
- A Watch-String by William Strode
- A Watch Sent Home To Mrs. Eliz: King, Wrapt In Theis Verses by William Strode
- A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada by William Strode
- A Superscription On Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia, Sent For A Token by William Strode
- A Strange Gentlewoman Passing By His Window by William Strode
- A Song On The Baths by William Strode
- A Song On A Sigh by William Strode
- A Riddle: On A Kiss by William Strode
- A Purse-String by William Strode
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.