A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
I hate this City, seated on the Plain,
The clang and clamour of the hot Bazar,
Knowing, amid the pauses of my pain,
This month the Almonds bloom in Kandahar.
The Almond-trees, that sheltered my Delight,
Screening my happiness as evening fell.
It was well worth–that most Enchanted Night–
This life in torment, and the next in Hell!
People are kind to me; one More than Kind,
Her lashes lie like fans upon her cheek,
But kindness is a burden on my mind,
And it is weariness to hear her speak.
For though that Kaffir’s bullet holds me here,
My thoughts are ever free, and wander far,
To where the Lilac Hills rise, soft and clear,
Beyond the Almond Groves of Kandahar.
He followed me to Sibi, to the Fair,
The Horse-fair, where he shot me weeks ago,
But since they fettered him I have no care
That my returning steps to health are slow.
They will not loose him till they know my fate,
And I rest here till I am strong to slay,
Meantime, my Heart’s Delight may safely wait
Among the Almond blossoms, sweet as they.
That cursed Kaffir! Well, he won by day,
But I won, what I so desired, by night,
_My_ arms held what his lack till Judgment Day!
Also, the game is not yet over–quite!
Wait, Amir Ali, wait till I come forth
To kill, before the Almond-trees are green,
To raze thy very Memory from the North,
_So that thou art not, and thou hast not been!_
Aha! Friend Amir Ali! it is Duty
To rid the World from Shiah dogs like thee,
They are but ill-placed moles on Islam’s beauty,
Such as the Faithful cannot calmly see!
Also thy bullet hurts me not a little,
Thy Shiah blood might serve to salve the ill.
Maybe some Afghan Promises are brittle;
Never a Promise to oneself, to kill!
Now I grow stronger, I have days of leisure
To shape my coming Vengeance as I lie,
And, undisturbed by call of War or Pleasure,
Can dream of many ways a man may die.
I shall not torture thee, thy friends might rally,
Some Fate assist thee and prove false to me;
Oh! shouldst thou now escape me, Amir Ali,
This would torment me through Eternity!
Aye, Shuffa-Jan, I will be quiet indeed,
Give here the Hakim’s powder if thou wilt,
And thou mayst sit, for I perceive thy need,
And rest thy soft-haired head upon my quilt.
Thy gentle love will not disturb a mind
That loves and hates beneath a fiercer Star.
Also, thou know’st, my Heart is left behind,
Among the Almond-trees of Kandahar!
A few random poems:
- Ruined World by Michael Yuan
- Miscast II poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Маяковский – Враги хлеба
- The Ghost by Walter de la Mare
- Sonnet. Written Before Re-Read King Lear poem – John Keats poems
- Анатолий Жигулин – Дальние предки
- Robert Burns: Sweet Tibbie Dunbar:
- At Night poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor by William Strode
- Олег Бундур – Гроза
- Юрий Коринец – Март
- Oh, see how thick the goldcup flowers poem – A. E. Housman
- Occupy the Wall Street by Sunil Sharma
- This by Ralph Angel
- Robert Burns: The Song Of Death: Scene-A Field of Battle. Time of the day-evening. The wounded and dying of the victorious army are supposed to join in the following song.
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
- On Imagination by Phillis Wheatley
- On Being Brought from Africa to America by Phillis Wheatley
- Ode To Neptune by Phillis Wheatley
- Niobe in Distress by Phillis Wheatley
- Isaiah LXIII by Phillis Wheatley
- Goliath Of Gath by Phillis Wheatley
- An Hymn To The Morning by Phillis Wheatley
- An Hymn To The Evening by Phillis Wheatley
- An Hymn To Humanity by Phillis Wheatley
- An Answer To The Rebus, By The Author Of These Poems by Phillis Wheatley
- A Rebus, By I. B. by Phillis Wheatley
- A Funeral Poem on the Death of C.E. by Phillis Wheatley
- A Farewel To America to Mrs. S. W. by Phillis Wheatley
- Subtlety
- An Invitation
- wonder life by PALLAVI SINGH
- Why do ye torture me? by Patrick Pearse
- When I Looked At You by Patrick Neo Mabiletsa
- What I Love by Pamela L. Laskin
- Twelve Years by Paul Celan
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.