A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
“And when the Summer Heat is great,
And every hour intense,
The Moghra, with its subtle flowers,
Intoxicates the sense.”
The Coco palms stood tall and slim, against the golden-glow,
And all their grey and graceful plumes were waving to and fro.
She lay forgetful in the boat, and watched the dying Sun
Sink slowly lakewards, while the stars replaced him, one by one.
She saw the marble Temple walls long white reflections make,
The echoes of their silvery bells were blown across the lake.
The evening air was very sweet; from off the island bowers
Came scents of Moghra trees in bloom, and Oleander flowers.
“The Moghra flowers that smell so sweet
When love’s young fancies play;
The acrid Moghra flowers, still sweet
Though love be burnt away.”
The boat went drifting, ucontrolled, the rower rowed no more,
But deftly turned the slender prow towards the further shore.
The dying sunset touched with gold the Jasmin in his hair;
His eyes were darkly luminous: she looked and found him fair.
And so persuasively he spoke, she could not say him nay,
And when his young hands took her own, she smiled and let them stay.
And all the youth awake in him, all love of Love in her,
All scents of white and subtle flowers that filled the twilight air
Combined together with the night in kind conspiracy
To do Love service, while the boat went drifting onwards, free.
“The Moghra flowers, the Moghra flowers,
While Youth’s quick pulses play
They are so sweet, they still are sweet,
Though passion burns away.”
Low in the boat the lovers lay, and from his sable curls
The Jasmin flowers slipped away to rest among the girl’s.
Oh, silver lake and silver night and tender silver sky!
Where as the hours passed, the moon rose white and cold on high.
“The Moghra flowers, the Moghra flowers,
So dear to Youth at play;
The small and subtle Moghra flowers
That only last a day.”
Suddenly, frightened, she awoke, and waking vaguely saw
The boat had stranded in the sedge that fringed the further shore.
The breeze grown chilly, swayed the palms; she heard, still half awake,
A prowling jackal’s hungry cry blown faintly o’er the lake.
She shivered, but she turned to kiss his soft, remembered face,
Lit by the pallid light he lay, in Youth’s abandoned grace.
But as her lips met his she paused, in terror and dismay,
The white moon showed her by her side asleep a Leper lay.
“Ah, Moghra flowers, white Moghra flowers,
All love is blind, they say;
The Moghra flowers, so sweet, so sweet,
Though love be burnt away!”
A few random poems:
- Олег Григорьев – Тонет муха в сладости
- Cino poem – Ezra Pound poems
- bells_pool_and_sleep.html
- Sonnet Viii
- Loneliness is a prison by Vladimir Marku
- Sonnet 17: Who will believe my verse in time to come by William Shakespeare
- Every Sect has a Faith – Har Qaum Raast Raahay poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Юлия Жадовская – Лучший перл таится
- At The Locks Of The Void
- Never Sure Which You Are by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Sport
- Hemlock Furrows
- Candles by Sylvia Plath
- Because We Never Practiced With The Escape Chamber poem – Alice Fulton poems | Poetry Monster
- On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age by Phillis Wheatley
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
- Et Le Marbre Creuse… by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Eating Poetry by Mark Strand
- Does Our Spirit Fly Away by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep by Mary Frye
- Disingenuousness by Mark R Slaughter
- Days Are Gone by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Dans les filets de midi by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Courtship by Mark Strand
- Coming To This by Mark Strand
- Coming to Terms by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Collateral Damage by Martina Reisz Newberry
- Collage by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Chronicles by Mark Olynyk
- Ce N’est Jamais Le Même Jardin by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- C’est la nuit aveugle by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Books by Mark Olynyk
- Awaken by Mark Miller
- Avec seulement du noir by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- Attente by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- At This Very Moment by Mary TallMountain
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.