A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
At day-break, when the tide was low
He came to bathe his slender feet,
And laughing, sported to and fro,
Across my waters cool and sweet.
Obedient to his Faith’s decree
His sable hair was shorn away,
One curl was left, that floating free,
I longed to deck with silver spray.
His eyes were wide and full of light,
Young eyes, where dreams and fancies glow.
There was no star in Heaven so bright,
And I reflect the stars, and know.
He gave himself to my embrace,
Ah, Youth, confiding and unwise !
My Kisses clustered on his face
How should I render up my prize?
Yet he withdrew ; my waves were weak.
He loitered on my banks awhile,
Shook my caresses from his cheek. ‘
And left me with a careless smile.
I let him leave; my tides were low.
But, seeking succour of the Sea
At noon I felt the breakers flow
Across the bar, and join with me.
I waited in the heat; at length
Again he came to bathe alone.
Then, in the fullness of my strength.
I caught and held him for my own!
His strong young arms apart he flung,
His red lips cried, I had no care.
In eddies round his limbs I clung,
And rippled in and out his hair.
I bore him downwards to the Sea,
The white surf, met us on the sand
His beauty was made one with me
Who saw and loved it on the land.
I laid him down upon the bar,
Played with his hair, and kissed his eyes.
How cold these mortal lovers are!
He sleeps and makes me no replies.
My tides run low; he will not wake,
His hand drifts like an empty shell.
I stole him for his beauty’s sake,
Alas, Enfifa did not well!
His young lips show no stir of breath.
Ah, – I begin to understand,
And I remember: – this is Death!
The haunting terror of the land.

A few random poems:
- Sonnet CXI: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare
- Disabled by Wilfred Owen
- Thoughts. by Walt Whitman
- Laws for Creations. by Walt Whitman
- Михаил Кузмин – В ранний утра час покидал Милет я
- Ольга Ермолаева – Всю эту печаль невозможно вместить целиком
- Thoughts by Ronald G. Auguste
- Николай Карамзин – Стихи к портрету И.И. Дмитриева (Министр, поэт и друг)
- The Holy Mountain of Hope by Thomas Ziemer
- My Winter Rose poem – Alfred Austin
- Алексей Плещеев – Прости
- To Dorothy by Marvin Bell
- Владимир Маяковский – Подписи к рисункам в журнале “ВОБ”
- Наум Коржавин – Гамлет
- It’s Dark in Here by Shel Silverstein
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
- SOMALIA CALLING by Satish Verma
- Solitudes by Satish Verma
- SNAKE CHARMING by Satish Verma
- Smiling Buddha by Satish Verma
- Singing Darkness by Satish Verma
- Sin and Prayer by Satish Verma
- Silver Trails by Satish Verma
- Sidelined by Satish Verma
- Shimmering by Satish Verma
- SELF-WATCH by Satish Verma
- Searing Heat by Satish Verma
- SCULPTURING by Satish Verma
- SCARY DANCE by Satish Verma
- REVOLT OF A SUTRA by Satish Verma
- REGENERATING by Satish Verma
- REFLECTING THE PRAISES by Satish Verma
- PURE STEEL by Satish Verma
- PROGNOSIS by Satish Verma
- PRESCIENCE by Satish Verma
- Praying Hurriedly by Satish Verma
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.