A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Softly the feathery Palm-trees fade in the violet Distance,
Faintly the lingering light touches the edge of the sea,
Sadly the Music of Waves, drifts, faint as an Anthem’s insistence,
Heard in the aisles of a dream, over the sandhills, to me.
Now that the Lights are reversed, and the Singing changed into sighing,
Now that the wings of our fierce, fugitive passion are furled,
Take I unto myself, all alone in the light that is dying,
Much of the sorrow that lies hid at the Heart of the World.
Sad am I, sad for your loss: for failing the charm of your presence,
Even the sunshine has paled, leaving the Zenith less blue.
Even the ocean lessens the light of its green opalescence,
Since, to my sorrow I loved, loved and grew weary of, you.
Why was our passion so fleeting, why had the flush of your beauty
Only so slender a spell, only so futile a power?
Yet, even thus ever is life, save when long custom or duty
Moulds into sober fruit Love’s fragile and fugitive flower.
Fain would my soul have been faithful; never an alien pleasure
Lured me away from the light lit in your luminous eyes,
But we have altered the World as pitiful man has leisure
To criticise, balance, take counsel, assuredly lies.
All through the centuries Man has gathered his flower, and fenced it,
–Infinite strife to attain; infinite struggle to keep,–
Holding his treasure awhile, all Fate and all forces against it,
Knowing it his no more, if ever his vigilance sleep.
But we have altered the World as pitiful man has grown stronger,
So that the things we love are as easily kept as won,
Therefore the ancient fight can engage and detain us no longer,
And all too swiftly, alas, passion is over and done.
Far too speedily now we can gather the coveted treasure,
Enjoy it awhile, be satiated, begin to tire;
And what shall be done henceforth with the profitless after-leisure,
Who has the breath to kindle the ash of a faded fire?
Ah, if it only had lasted! After my ardent endeavour
Came the delirious Joy, flooding my life like a sea,
Days of delight that are burnt on the brain for ever and ever,
Days and nights when you loved, before you grew weary of me.
Softly the sunset decreases dim in the violet Distance,
Even as Love’s own fervour has faded away from me,
Leaving the weariness, the monotonous Weight of Existence,–
All the farewells in the world weep in the sound of the sea.

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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
- Lover’s Gifts XLVIII: I Travelled the Old Road by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XLVII: The Road Is by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XLIV: Where Is Heaven by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XLIII: Dying, You Have Left Behind by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XLII: Are You a Mere Picture by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XL: A Message Came by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XIX: It Is Written in the Book by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts XIII: Last Night in the Garden by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts VIII: There Is Room for You by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts V: I Would Ask For Still More by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts LXX: Take Back Your Coins by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts LVIII: Things Throng and Laugh by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts LIV: In the Beginning of Time by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts LII: Tired of Waiting by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts IV: She Is Near to My Heart by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lover’s Gifts II: Come to My Garden Walk by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lotus by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lost Time by Rabindranath Tagore
- Lost Star by Rabindranath Tagore
- Little Of Me by Rabindranath Tagore
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.