I’LL on; for what should hinder me
From loving and enjoying thee?
Thou canst not those exceptions make,
Which vulgar, sordid mortals take-
That my fate’s too mean and low;
‘T were pity I should love thee so,
If that dull cause could hinder me
In loving and enjoying thee.
It does not me a whit displease,
That the rich all honours seize;
That you all titles make your own,
Are valiant, learned, wise, alone:
But, if you claim o’er women too
The power which over men ye do;
If you alone must lovers be;
For that, Sirs, you must pardon me.
Rather than lose what does so near
Concern my life and being here,
I’ll some such crooked ways invent,
As you, or your forefathers, went:
I’ll flatter or oppose the king,
Turn Puritan, or any thing;
I’ll force my mind to arts so new:
Grow rich, and love as well as you.
But rather thus let me remain,
As man in paradise did reign;
When perfect love did so agree
With innocence and poverty,
Adam did no jointure give;
Himself was jointure to his Eve:
Untouch’d with avarice yet, or pride,
The rib came freely back t’ his side.
A curse upon the man who taught
Women, that love was to be bought!
Rather dote only on your gold,
And that with greedy avarice hold;
For, if woman too submit
To that, and sell herself for it,
Fond lover! you a mistress have
Of her that’s but your fellow-slave.
What should those poets mean of old
That made their God to woo in gold?
Of all men, sure, they had no cause
To bind love to such costly laws;
And yet I scarcely blame them now;
For who, alas! would not allow,
That women should such gifts receive,
Could they, as he, be what they give?
If thou, my dear, thyself shouldst prize,
Alas! what value would suffice?
The Spaniard could not do’t, though he
Should to both Indies jointure thee.
Thy beauties therefore wrong will take,
If thou shouldst any bargain make;
To give all, will befit thee well;
But not at under-rates to sell.
Bestow thy beauty then on me,
Freely, as nature gave’t to thee;
‘T is an exploded popish thought
To think that heaven may be bought.
Prayers, hymns, and praises, are the way,
And those my thankful Muse shall pay:
Thy body, in my verse enshrin’d,
Shall grow immortal as thy mind.
I’ll fix thy title next in fame
To Sacharissa’s well-sung name.
So faithfully will I declare
What all thy wondrous beauties are,
That when, at the last great assize,
All women shall together rise,
Men straight shall cast their eyes on thee
And know at first that thou art she.
A few random poems:
- Robert Burns: On My Own Friend And My Father’s Friend, Wm. Muir In Tarbolton Mill:
- And Then It Rained by Pamela Griffiths
- The Meeting by Sara Teasdale
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lass Of Albany:
- To a woman, Translation of Paul Verlaine’s sonnet: A une femme by T. Wignesan.
- The Lantern Out Of Doors poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Василий Жуковский – На первое отречение от престола Бонапарте
- Pay your last respects by Vinaya Kumar Hanumanthappa
- E-waste by Nisha Gopalakrishnan
- Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers poem – A. E. Housman
- Lover’s Gifts LVI: The Evening Was Lonely by Rabindranath Tagore
- I’ve Got a Golden Ticket by Roald Dahl
- Lover’s Gifts XXXIX: There Is a Looker-On by Rabindranath Tagore
- Waking In Winter by Sylvia Plath
- The Indian Upon God by William Butler Yeats
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
- Алишер Навои – О сердце, столько на земле
- Алишер Навои – О, мне бы крылья
- Алишер Навои – Нет, не от слез кровавых одежда моя красней
- Алишер Навои – Не в камфарной ли одежде этот кипарис прямой
- Алишер Навои – Над головой моею осенних дней листопад
- Алишер Навои – На лице горит созвездье у красавицы моей
- Алишер Навои – Моя безумная душа в обломках
- Алишер Навои – Луна в носилках, о постой
- Алишер Навои – Кто на стезе любви един
- Алишер Навои – Когда, тоскуя по тебе
- Алишер Навои – Кипарис подобен розе увлажненной
- Алишер Навои – Как от вздохов безнадежных дым
- Алишер Навои – Эти губы точно розы
- Алишер Навои – Если б был я быстрым ветром
- Алишер Навои – Двух резвых своих газелей, которые нежно спят
- Алишер Навои – Цветком, что счастье нам несет
- Алишер Навои – Чудесные свершения середины жизни
- Алишер Навои – Чаша, солнце отражая
- Альфред Теннисон – Волшебница Шалот
- Альфред Теннисон – В долине
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
Abraham Cowley (1618 – 1667), the Royalist Poet.Poet and essayist Abraham Cowley was born in London, England, in 1618. He displayed early talent as a poet, publishing his first collection of poetry, Poetical Blossoms (1633), at the age of 15. Cowley studied at Cambridge University but was stripped of his Cambridge fellowship during the English Civil War and expelled for refusing to sign the Solemn League and Covenant of 1644. In turn, he accompanied Queen Henrietta Maria to France, where he spent 12 years in exile, serving as her secretary. During this time, Cowley completed The Mistress (1647). Arguably his most famous work, the collection exemplifies Cowley’s metaphysical style of love poetry. After the Restoration, Cowley returned to England, where he was reinstated as a Cambridge fellow and earned his MD before finally retiring to the English countryside. He is buried at Westminster Abbey alongside Geoffrey Chaucer and Edmund Spenser. Cowley is a wonderful poet and an outstanding representative of the English baroque.