A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
The listless Palm-trees catch the breeze above
The pile-built huts that edge the salt Lagoon,
There is no Breeze to cool the heat of love,
No wind from land or sea, at night or noon.
Perfumed and robed I wait, my Lord, for you,
And my heart waits alert, with strained delight,
My flowers are loath to close, as though they knew
That you will come to me before the night.
In the Verandah all the lights are lit,
And softly veiled in rose to please your eyes,
Between the pillars flying foxes flit,
Their wings transparent on the lilac skies.
Come soon, my Lord, come soon, I almost fear
My heart may fail me in this keen suspense,
Break with delight, at last, to know you near.
Pleasure is one with Pain, if too intense.
I envy these: the steps that you will tread,
The jasmin that will touch you by its leaves,
When, in your slender height, you stoop your head
At the low door beneath the palm-thatched eaves.
For though you utterly belong to me,
And love has done his utmost ‘twixt us twain,
Your slightest, careless touch yet seems to be
That keen delight so much akin to pain.
The night breeze blows across the still Lagoon,
And stirs the Palm-trees till they wave above
Our pile-built huts; Oh, come, my Lord, come soon,
There is no Breeze to cool the heat of love.
Every time you give yourself to me,
The gift seems greater, and yourself more fair,
This slight-built, palm-thatched hut has come to be
A temple, since, my Lord, you visit there.
And as the water, gurgling softly, goes
Among the piles beneath the slender floor;
I hear it murmur, as it seaward flows,
Of the great Wonder seen upon the shore.
The Miracle, that you should come to me,
Whom the whole world, seeing, can but desire,
It is as though some White Star stooped to be
The messmate of our little cooking fire.
Leaving the Glory of his Purple Skies,
And the White Friendship of the Crescent Moon,
And yet;–I look into your brilliant eyes,
And find content; Oh, come, my Lord, come soon.
Perfumed and robed I wait for you, I wait,
The flowers that please you wreathed about my hair,
And this poor face set forth in jewelled state,
So more than proud since you have found it fair.
My lute is ready, and the fragrant drink
Your lips may honour, how it will rejoice
Losing its life in yours! the lute I think
But wastes the time when I might hear your voice.
But you desired it, therefore I obey.
Your slightest, as your utmost, wish or will,
Whether it please you to caress or slay,
It would please me to give obedience still.
I would delight to die beneath your kiss;
I envy that young maiden who was slain,
So her warm blood, flowing beneath the kiss,
Might ease the wounded Sultan of his pain–
If she loved him as I love you, my Lord.
There is no pleasure on the earth so sweet
As is the pain endured for one adored;
If I lay crushed beneath your slender feet
I should be happy! Ah, come soon, come soon,
See how the stars grow large and white above,
The land breeze blows across the salt Lagoon,
There is no Breeze to cool the heat of love.
A few random poems:
- Владимир Степанов – Наша Армия
- To E.S. Salomon poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Юргис Балтрушайтис – Нарядно выстлав дол, взбегая на холмы
- Robert Burns: A Tippling Ballad: On the Duke of Brunswick’s Breaking up his Camp, and the defeat of the Austrians, by Dumourier, November 1792.
- The (REAL) Tale of the Tortoise and the Hare by Ross D Tyler
- Moonlight On The Door by William Barnes
- Denouement Villanelle by Sylvia Plath
- What the Miner in the Desert Said by Vachel Lindsay
- Chocolate by Rita Dove
- Sonnet IV by William Shakespeare
- Spanish Banks
- Ad Martialem by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Statistic by Shivam Pandya
- Алексей Толстой – Стасюлевич и Маркевич
- Song of Poplars poem – Aldous Huxley poems | Poetry Monster
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
- WHAT ASYLUM! by Satish Verma
- WARMING UP by Satish Verma
- WALKING TOELESS by Satish Verma
- WALKING INTO YOU by Satish Verma
- VOICES by Satish Verma
- VERY DISTURBING by Satish Verma
- Vaulting by Satish Verma
- Unsung Hands by Satish Verma
- Unstitching by Satish Verma
- Unspoken by Satish Verma
- Unruffled by Satish Verma
- UNREADABLE by Satish Verma
- Unphrasing by Satish Verma
- Unforgetting by Satish Verma
- UNEVEN PATH by Satish Verma
- UNDECIPHERABLE by Satish Verma
- TURNING GRAY by Satish Verma
- TRUNCATED by Satish Verma
- TRANSPARENCY by Satish Verma
- TOELESS JOURNEY by Satish Verma
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.