A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Sad is the Evening: all the level sand
Lies left and lonely, while the restless sea,
Tired of the green caresses of the land,
Withdraws into its own infinity.
But still more sad this white and chilly Dawn
Filling the vacant spaces of the sky,
While little winds blow here and there forlorn
And all the stars, weary of shining, die.
And more than desolate, to wake, to rise,
Leaving the couch, where softly sleeping still,
What through the past night made my heaven, lies;
And looking out across the window sill
See, from the upper window’s vantage ground,
Mankind slip into harness once again,
And wearily resume his daily round
Of love and labour, toil and strife and pain.
How the sad thoughts slip back across the night:
The whole thing seems so aimless and so vain.
What use the raptures, passion and delight,
Burnt out; as though they could not wake again.
The worn-out nerves and weary brain repeat
The question: Whither all these passions tend;–
This curious thirst, so painful and so sweet,
So fierce, so very short-lived, to what end?
Even, if seeking for ourselves, the Race,
The only immortality we know,–
Even if from the flower of our embrace
Some spark should kindle, or some fruit should grow,
What were the use? the gain, to us or it,
That we should cause another You or Me,–
Another life, from our light passion lit,
To suffer like ourselves awhile and die.
What aim, what end indeed? Our being runs
In a closed circle. All we know or see
Tends to assure us that a thousand Suns,
Teeming perchance with life, have ceased to be.
Ah, the grey Dawn seems more than desolate,
And the past night of passion worse than waste,
Love but a useless flower, that soon or late,
Turns to a fruit with bitter aftertaste.
Youth, even Youth, seems futile and forlorn
While the new day grows slowly white above.
Pale and reproachful comes the chilly Dawn
After the fervour of a night of love.
A few random poems:
- On the Beach at Night, Alone. by Walt Whitman
- Спиридон Дрожжин – Смерть коня-пахаря
- Did I Not Say To You by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- Владимир Высоцкий – Холодно, метёт кругом
- Sonnet 59: If there be nothing new, but that which is by William Shakespeare
- Владимир Гиппиус – Узел
- A Sea-Shore Grave. To M. J. L. by Sidney Lanier
- Ploughing the land by Yosa Buson
- The Kiss by Sara Teasdale
- Love’s Wisdom poem – Alfred Austin
- Олег Чупров – Взлетев высоко и прекрасно
- Владимир Британишский – Девятое января
- Федор Сологуб – Сверкайте, миги строгих дней
- To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee by William Butler Yeats
- My Father’s Hats by Mark Irwin
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
- Наум Коржавин – Неужели птицы пели
- Наум Коржавин – Нет! Так я просто не уйду во мглу
- Наум Коржавин – Нелепые ваши затеи
- Наум Коржавин – Не верь, что ты поэта шире
- Наум Коржавин – Наверно, я не так на свете жил
- Наум Коржавин – На побывке
- Наум Коржавин – На друга-поэта
- Наум Коржавин – Мой ритм заглох
- Наум Коржавин – Мне без тебя так трудно жить
- Наум Коржавин – Меня, как видно, Бог не звал
- Наум Коржавин – Люди пашут каждый раз опять
- Наум Коржавин – Ленинград
- Наум Коржавин – Легкость
- Наум Коржавин – Комиссары
- Наум Коржавин – Кое-кому
- Наум Коржавин – Как ты мне изменяла
- Наум Коржавин – К моему двадцатипятилетию
- Наум Коржавин – Иван Калита
- Наум Коржавин – Иль впрямь я разлюбил свою страну?
- Наум Коржавин – Грустная самопародия
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.