A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Ah, my lord, are the tidings true,
That thy mother’s jewels are shapen anew?
I hear that a bride has chosen been,
The stars consulted, the parents seen.
Had I been childless, had never there smiled
The brilliant eyes from the face of a child,
Then at least I had understood
This thing they tell me thou findest good.
But I have been down to the River of Death,
With painful footsteps and shuddering breath,
Seven times; thou hast daughters three,
And four young sons who are fair as thee.
I am not unlovely, over my head
Not twenty summers as yet have sped.
‘T is eleven years since my opening life
Was given to thee by my father’s wife.
Ah, those days–They were lovely to me,
When little and shy I waited for thee.
Till I locked my arms round my lover above,
A child in form but a woman in love.
And I bore thy sons, as a woman should,
Year by year, as is meet and good.
Thy mother was ever content with me–
And Oh, Beloved, I worshipped thee!
And now it’s over; alas, my lord,
Better I felt thy sharpest sword.
I hear she is youthful and fair as I
When I came to thee in the days gone by.
Her breasts are firmer; this bosom slips
Somewhat, weighted by children’s lips.
But they were thy children. Oh, lord my king,
Ah, why hast thy heart devised this thing ?
I am not as the women of this thy land,
Meek and timid, broken to hand.
From the distant North I was given to thee,
Whose daughters are passionate, fierce and free,
I could not dwell by a rival’s side,
I seek a bridegroom, as thou a bride.
The night she yieldeth her youth to thee,
Death shall take his pleasure in me.
A few random poems:
- Кондратий Рылеев – К N. N. (Когда душа изнемогала)
- REFLECTING THE PRAISES by Satish Verma
- Drapple-thorned Aphrodite, by Sappho
- motionless_body.html
- Weary not of us, for we are very beautiful by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Sonnet 04
- Федор Сваровский – Погребение мехоса
- Application For A Driving License by Michael Ondaatje
- Epitaph On the Lady Mary Villiers by Thomas Carew
- Come, come thou bleak December wind (fragment) by Samuel Coleridge
- Lost Love Is Never Lost
- Fire’s Reflection by Rainer Maria Rilke
- Владимир Маяковский – Плюшкин
- The Meditation Of The Old Fisherman by William Butler Yeats
- In shadows of night
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
- Scoring Highly on the Psychopathy Scale by P.J.Reed
- Primrose by Patrick Kavanagh
- Pollination by Pamela L. Laskin
- This Evening Also by Paul Celan
- Landscape by Paul Celan
- Peace by Patrick Kavanagh
- Planet Earth by P. K. Page
- O Little Root of a Dream by Paul Celan
- Night Ray by Paul Celan
- Motel Pool by P. K. Page
- Miss Brown by Samuel Stephen Wakdok
- Miracles by Paul Hostovsky
- Memory Of My Father by Patrick Kavanagh
- Le monstre by Patryck Froissart
- Landscape by Paul Celan
- Jokes on You by Rohan Dunbar
- Pamela Griffiths – Pamela Griffiths
- In Spite Of by Patricia Farley
- In Memory Of My Mother by Patrick Kavanagh
- I Want Those Words Today by Pandian Chelliah
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.