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:
- Untitled XXIII by Yunus Emre
- Robert Burns: The Parting Kiss:
- Олег Григорьев – Дачник
- Epigram : The Cottager And His Landlord. A Fable (Translated From Milton) by William Cowper
- At Midnight by Sara Teasdale
- The Tree of Scarlet Berries poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Robert Burns: Down The Burn, Davie:
- Dirge of the Three Queens by William Shakespeare
- tracks_in_the_private_country.html
- As I Sat Alone by Blue Ontario’s Shores. by Walt Whitman
- Epistle To John Hamilton Reynolds poem – John Keats poems
- New Year’s Dawn – Broadway by Sara Teasdale
- Спиридон Дрожжин – Люблю я сельский мой приют
- The Dead by Sylvia Plath
- Walking Wounded by Vernon Scannell
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
- Юнна Мориц – Побег
- Юнна Мориц – Осень
- Юнна Мориц – О жизни, о жизни
- Юнна Мориц – Не вспоминай меня
- Юнна Мориц – На Трафальгарской площади ночной
- Юнна Мориц – На смерть Джульетты
- Юнна Мориц – Мой подвал
- Юнна Мориц – Малиновая кошка
- Юнна Мориц – Лето
- Юнна Мориц – Котик
- Юнна Мориц – Комарово
- Юнна Мориц – Это вьюги хрустящий калач
- Юнна Мориц – Это да, это нет
- Юнна Мориц – Дышать любовью, пить её, как воздух
- Юнна Мориц – Дрожащие губы и скрежет плаща
- Юнна Мориц – Цветок
- Юнна Мориц – Букет котов
- Юнна Мориц – Большой секрет для маленькой компании
- Юнна Мориц – Благолепие света
- Юнна Мориц – Бетани
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.