A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
This man has taken my Husband’s life
And laid my Brethren low,
No sister indeed, were I, no wife,
To pardon and let him go.
Yet why does he look so young and slim
As he weak and wounded lies?
How hard for me to be harsh to him
With his soft, appealing eyes.
His hair is ruffled upon the stone
And the slender wrists are bound,
So young! and yet he has overthrown
His scores on the battle ground.
Would I were only a slave to-day,
To whom it were right and meet
To wash the stains of the War away,
The dust from the weary feet.
Were I but one of my serving girls
To solace his pain to rest!
Shake out the sand from the soft loose curls,
And hold him against my breast!
Have we such beauty around our Throne?
Such lithe and delicate strength?
Would God that I were the senseless stone
To support his slender length!
I hate those wounds that trouble my sight,
Unknown! how I wish you lay,
Alone in my silken tent to-night
While I charmed the pain away.
I would lay you down on the Royal bed,
I would bathe your wounds with wine,
And setting your feet against my head
Dream you were lover of mine.
My Crown is heavy upon my hair,
The Jewels weigh on my breast,
All I would leave, with delight, to share
Your pale and passionate rest!
But hands grow restless about their swords,
Lips murmur below their breath,
“The Queen is silent too long!” “My Lords,
–Take him away to death!”
A few random poems:
- In Memoriam A. H. H.: 2. Old Yew, which graspest at the sto poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Владимир Маяковский – Что такое II Интернационал?.. (РОСТА №133)
- A Song by William Butler Yeats
- On Seeing the Ladies Crux-Easton Walk in the Woods by the Grotto. poem – Alexander Pope
- Robert Burns: The Day Returns:
- Владимир Высоцкий – Куплеты Бенгальского
- Sonnet 60: Like as the waves make towards the pebbled shore by William Shakespeare
- Memory by Siegfried Sassoon
- A Reply To A Pessimist poem – Alfred Austin
- To A Lady On The Death Of Her Husband by Phillis Wheatley
- Black Stone On Top Of Nothing by Philip Levine
- So Small, So Vital
- Sonnet CXXXIII by William Shakespeare
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Калиф и раб
- Who Says Words With My Mouth? by Rumi
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
- Robert Burns: The Flowery Banks Of Cree:
- Robert Burns: Young Jamie, Pride Of A’ The Plain:
- Robert Burns: A Red, Red Rose: [Hear Red, Red Rose]
- Robert Burns: A Vision:
- Robert Burns: The Minstrel At Lincluden:
- Robert Burns: A Fiddler In The North:
- Robert Burns: Wilt Thou Be My Dearie?:
- Robert Burns: Remorseful Apology:
- Robert Burns: Complimentary Epigram On Maria Riddell:
- Robert Burns: Address Spoken by Miss Fontenelle on her Benefit Night, December 4th, 1793, at the Theatre, Dumfries.:
- Robert Burns: My Spouse Nancy:
- Robert Burns: On Mrs. Riddell’s Birthday:
- Robert Burns: Thine Am I, My Faithful Fair:
- Robert Burns: Deluded Swain, The Pleasure:
- Robert Burns: Where Are The Joys I have Met?:
- Robert Burns: Thou Hast Left Me Ever, Jamie:
- Robert Burns: Down The Burn, Davie:
- Robert Burns: Behold The Hour, The Boat Arrive:
- Robert Burns: Robert Bruce’s March To Bannockburn:
- Robert Burns: Dainty Davie:
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Parallel Translations of Poetry
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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.