I
O foolish tears, go back!
Learn to cover your jealous pride far down in the nerveless heart that ye are voices for.
Your sobbings mar the unfinished picture that my trembling life would fill up to greet its dawn.
I know, poor heart, that you are reaching up to a Love that finds not all its demands in thy weak pulse.
And I know that you sob up your red tears to my face, because-because-others who care less for his dear Love may, each day, open their glad eyes his lightest wish to bless.
But, jealous heart, we will not give him from drops that overflow thy rim.
We will fathom the mysteries of earth, of air and of sea, to fill thy broad life with beauty, and then empty all its very depths of light deep into his wide soul!
II
Ah! When I am a cloud-a pliant, floating cloud-I will haunt the Sun-God for some eternal ray of Beauty.
I will wind my soft arms around the wheels of his blazing chariot, till he robes me in gorgeous trains of gold!
I will sing to the stars till they crown me with their richest jewels!
I will plead to the angels for the whitest, broadest wings that ever walled their glorious heights around a dying soul!
Then I will flaunt my light down the steep grooves of space into this dark, old world, until Eyes of Love will brighten for me!
III
When I am a flower-a wild, sweet flower-I will open my glad blue eyes to one alone.
I will bloom in his footsteps, and muffle their echoes with my velvet lips.
So near him will I grow that his breath shall mark kisses on all my green leaves!
I will fill his deep soul with all the eternal fragrance of my love!
Yes, I will be a violet-a wild sweet violet-and sigh my very life away for him!
IV
When I am a bird-a white-throated bird-all trimmed in plumage of crimson and gold, I will sing to one alone.
I will come from the sea-the broad blue sea-and fold my wings with olive-leaves to the glad tidings of his hopes!
I will come from the forest-the far old forest-where sighs and tears of reckless loves have never moaned away the morning of poor lives.
I will come from the sky, with songs of an angel, and flutter into his soul to see how I may be all melody to him!
Yes, I will be a bird-a loving, docile bird-and furl my wild wings, and shut my sad eyes in his breast!
V
When I am a wave-a soft, white wave-I will run up from ocean’s purple spheres, and murmur out my low sweet voice to one alone.
I will dash down to the cavern of gems and lift up to his eyes Beauty that will drink light from the Sun!
I will bring blue banners that angels have lost from the clouds.
Yes, I will be a wave-a happy, dancing wave-and leap up in the sunshine to lay my crown of spray-pearls at his feet.
VI
Alas! poor heart, what am I now?
A weed-a frail, bitter weed-growing outside the garden wall.
All day straining my dull eyes to see the blossoms within, as they wave their crimson flags to the wind.
And yet my dark leaves pray to be as glorious as the rose.
My bitter stalks would be as sweet as the violet if they could.
I try to bloom up into the light.
My poor, yearning soul to Heaven would open its velvet eyes of fire.
Oh! the love of Beauty through every fibre of my lonely life is trembling!
Every floating cloud and flying bird draws up jealous Envy and bleeding Love!
So passionately wild in me is this burning unspeakable thirst to grow all beauty, all grace, all melody to one-and to him alone!

A few random poems:
- Василий Тредиаковский – К почтению, льзя объявить любовь
- Шекспир – Чтобы стихи, рожденные когда-то – Сонет 38
- The Rhyme of the Three Captains by Rudyard Kipling
- Berck-Plage by Sylvia Plath
- The Death Of Myth-Making by Sylvia Plath
- Three Sonnets Written In Mid-Channel poem – Alfred Austin
- Владимир Степанов – Волнушки
- In The Stilness O’ The Night by William Barnes
- The humble earthen lamp by Sunil Sharma
- Нина Гаген-Торн – На свете есть много мук
- Кондратий Рылеев – Гусь и змия
- In Memory Of My Mother by Patrick Kavanagh
- As I Walked Out One Evening by W. H. Auden
- Ripening by Wendell Berry
- Fragment Of An Ode To Maia. Written On May Day 1818 poem – John Keats poems
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
- Waking In March by Philip Levine
- Told by Philip Levine
- They Feed They Lion by Philip Levine
- Then by Philip Levine
- The New World by Philip Levine
- The Helmet by Philip Levine
- The Distant Winter by Philip Levine
- Gangrene by Philip Levine
- Noon by Philip Levine
- Making Light Of It by Philip Levine
- Making It Work by Philip Levine
- Magpiety by Philip Levine
- Mad Day In March by Philip Levine
- M. Degas Teaches Art & Science At Durfee Intermediate School–Detroit, 1942 by Philip Levine
- Late Moon by Philip Levine
- Late Light by Philip Levine
- Last Words by Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
- Philip Levine – Philip Levine
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
Adah Isaacs Menken (1835 – 1868) was an American actress and a performer, who painted painter and wrote a number of poems (31 published so far). She was supposedly the highest earning actress of her time. She was best known for her performance in the hippodrama Mazeppa (with libretto based on Pushkin’s work), it is said that the climax of the spectacle featured her apparently nude and riding a horse on stage. After great success for a few years with the play in New York and San Francisco, she appeared in a production in London and Paris, from 1864 to 1866. She was a friend of Alexander Dumas. Adah Menken died in Paris at the age of 33