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:
- The Blues by William Matthews
- Passing by Shaunna Harper
- Pequeña niña mía by Mara Romero Torres
- Кондратий Рылеев – Песня (Кто сколько ни хлопочет)
- Владимир Костров – Выходец из волости лесистой
- The Child an’ the Mowers by William Barnes
- English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 85. Oh For the Swords of Former Time. Томас Мур.
- On The Nature Of Love by Rabindranath Tagore
- Full Moon and Little Frieda by Ted Hughes
- Владимир Британишский – Композитор
- Sonnet (IX) : Flesh o flesh ! The momentous , the mortal , the doomed by Neelam Sinha
- Sonnet Iv
- Robert Burns: Willie Brew’d A Peck O’ Maut:
- Lucky by Thomas Lux
- the_man_that_poetry_made.html
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
- Омар Хайям – Из допущенных в рай и повергнутых в ад
- Омар Хайям – Имей друзей поменьше, не расширяй их круг
- Омар Хайям – И теперь живу под гнетом страха
- Омар Хайям – И сиянье рая, и ада огни
- Омар Хайям – Грех Хайям совершил и совсем занемог
- Омар Хайям – Где вы, друзья! Где вольный ваш припев?
- Омар Хайям – Этот мастер всевышний
- Омар Хайям – Это время любви, словно тёплая осень
- Омар Хайям – Есть много вер, и все несхожи
- Омар Хайям – Если жизнь все равно неизбежно пройдет
- Омар Хайям – Если все государства, вблизи и вдали
- Омар Хайям – Если ты не впадаешь в молитвенный раж
- Омар Хайям – Если счастлив от счастья
- Омар Хайям – Если любишь, то стойко разлуку терпи
- Омар Хайям – Если гурия страстно целует в уста
- Омар Хайям – Если есть у тебя для жилья закуток
- Омар Хайям – Если бог не услышит меня в вышине
- Омар Хайям – Египет, Рим, Китай держи ты под пятой
- Омар Хайям – Двести лет проживешь, или тысячу лет
- Омар Хайям – Душой ты безбожник с Писаньем в руке
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.