And must I wear a silken life,
Hemmed in by city walls?
And must I give my garden up
For theatres and balls?
Nay, though the cage be made of gold,
‘Tis better to be free;
The green of the green meadows, love,
Is quite enough for me.
I’d rather ramble through the lanes
Than drive about in town;
I’d rather muse or dream than dance,
When the stars are shining down.
I do not care for diamonds, dear,
But I care a deal for flowers;
And thousands are just creeping out
For the sunshine and the showers.
I like to hear the Household band,
But I love the bird-songs best;
And hark! how they are twittering now
Round each half-hidden nest!
The wind is whispering in the leaves,
And the downy bees begin
To hum in the blossoming sycamores,
And the brook is chiming in.
There is such melody in the woods,
Such music in the air!
The streets are full of life and sound,
And yet ’tis silent there.
I like to see the pictures-ay,
But I am hard to please!
I never saw a picture yet
As great and grand as these;
Such tones of colour as transform
The tender green and brown,
When the pink dawn is flushing up,
Or the red sun sinking down;
Such painting as the chestnut bud
Shows in its opening heart;
Such lights as shine ‘twixt earth and sky
When rain-clouds break apart;
Such soft, warm, subtle tints, as lie
In every mossy patch-
On the blue-brown trunks, now filled with life,
And the humble roof of thatch,-
In the purple hollows of the hills,
In the lichen on the wall,
In the orchard and the feathery woods,
And the sun-lit waterfall.
I like my humble country ways,
My simple, early meals;
I like to potter about the yard,
With my chickens at my heels.
I’d rather climb this brambly steep,
Where freshest sea-winds blow,
With my old straw hat hanging down my back.
Than canter along the Row.
To me (it’s vulgar, dear, I know)
No fête is half so gay
As a cricket-match on the village green,
Or a picnic in the hay.
Ah, yes! I’m happier as I am,-
I’m ignorant, you see;
And the life of fashion that you love
Would never do for me.

A few random poems:
- Robert Burns: Ode, Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald Of Auchencruive:
- Introduction to the Songs of Innocence by William Blake
- Иннокентий Анненский – Из участковых монологов
- The First Jasmines by Rabindranath Tagore
- Олег Григорьев – Вперед не рвись
- Ярослав Смеляков – В защиту домино
- Trebetherick poem – John Betjeman poems
- Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done by William Shakespeare
- Низами Гянджеви – Встань, виночерпий, не ленись
- An Imperial Rescript by Rudyard Kipling
- Виктор Гусев – Октябрьский смотр
- The Angel Of The Church by William Gilmore Simms
- Respect her by Vinaya Kumar Hanumanthappa
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On Holy Willie:
- Владимир Маяковский – Журнал “Крысодав”
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
- Arrival by William Carlos Williams
- April Is The Saddest Month by William Carlos Williams
- Après le Bain by William Carlos Williams
- Approach Of Winter by William Carlos Williams
- A Sort Of A Song by William Carlos Williams
- A Goodnight by William Carlos Williams
- A Celebration by William Carlos Williams
- Women And Roses by Robert Browning
- Venus, on a fur by Witty Fay
- Ultima Thule by William Ellery Leonard
- To the Victor by William Ellery Leonard
- The Image Of Delight by William Ellery Leonard
- The First Part: Sonnet 5 – How that vast heaven intitled First is roll’d, by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 4 – Fair is my yoke, though grievous be my pains, by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 3 – Ye who so curiously do paint your thoughts, by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 2 – I know that all beneath the moon decays by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 14 – Nor Arne, nor Mincius, nor stately Tiber, by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 13 – O sacred blush, impurpling cheeks’ pure skies by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 12 – Ah! burning thoughts, now let me take some rest, by William Drummond
- The First Part: Sonnet 11 – Lamp of heaven’s crystal hall that brings the hours, by William Drummond
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
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.