A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
There are no days for me any more, for the dawn is dark with tears,
There is no rest for me any more, for the night is thick with fears.
There are no flowers nor any fruit, for the sorrowful locusts came,
And the garden is but a memory, the vineyard only a name.
There is no light in the empty sky, no sail upon the sea,
Birds are yet on their nests perchance, but they sing no more to me.
Past–vanished–faded away–all the joys that were.
My youth died down in a swift decline when they married her to despair.
“My lord, the crowd in the Audience Hall; how long wilt thou have them wait?”
I have given my father’s younger son the guidance of the State.
“The steeds are saddled, the Captains call for the orders of the day.”
Tell them that I shall ride no more to the hunting or the fray.
“Sweet the scent of the Moghra flowers;” Brother, it may be so.
“The young, flushed spring is with us again.” Is it? I did not know.
“The Zamorin’s daughter draweth near, on slender golden feet;”
Oh, a curse upon all sweet things say I, to whom they are no more sweet!
Dost think that a man as sick as I can compass a woman’s ease?
That the sons of a man who is like to me could ever find rest or peace?
Tell them to marry them where they will, if their longing be so sore,
Such are the things that all men seek, but I shall seek no more.
All my muscles are fallen in, and the blood deserts my veins,
Every fibre and bone of me is waxen full of pains,
The iron feet of mine enemy’s curse are heavy upon my head,
Look at me and judge for thyself, thou seest I am but dead.
“Then, who is it, Prince, who has done this thing, has sown such a bitter seed,
That we hale him forth to the Market-place, bind him and let him bleed,
That the flesh may shudder and wince and writhe, reddening ‘neath the rod.”
Love is the evil-doer, alas! and how shalt thou scourge a God?
A few random poems:
- Malay Song
- And love has changed to kindliness by Rupert Brooke
- Олег Бундур – Просьба
- I Shout Love by Milton Acorn
- Sheep In Fog by Sylvia Plath
- of spiritual matters by Raj Arumugam
- Roar Shack poem – Alice Fulton
- When Day Is Done by Rabindranath Tagore
- Зинаида Александрова – Одуванчик
- Robin Redbreast by William Allingham
- Robert Burns: O May, Thy Morn:
- The Aisne
- Владимир Степанов – Волнушки
- King Stephen poem – John Keats poems
- A Photograph on the Desk by Mary Etta Metcalf
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
- On The Tomb Of A Priestess Of Artemis by Sappho
- To One who Loved not Poetry by Sappho
- To One False In Love by Sappho
- To Aphrodite by Sappho
- To A Girl In A Garden by Sappho
- Before They Were Mothers by Sappho
- The Torments Of Love by Sappho
- The Silver Moon by Sappho
- The Death Of Adonis by Sappho
- Like The Sweet Apple by Sappho
- In the spring twilight by Sappho
- The Silver Moon by Sappho
- Sappho To Her Girlfriends by Sappho
- To One who Loved not Poetry by Sappho
- On The Tomb Of A Priestess Of Artemis by Sappho
- Of course I love you by Sappho
- Ode To A Loved One by Sappho
- My Garden by Sappho
- Mother, I Cannot Mind My Wheel by Sappho
- Loneliness by Sappho
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.