Vayu The Wind

A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)

Ah, Wind, I have always loved thee

Since those far off nights

When I lay beneath the vines

A prey to strange delights,

For among my tresses

Thy soft caresses

Were sweet as a lover’s to me.

Later thou grewest more wanton, or I more shy,

And after the bath I drew my garments close,

Fearing thy soft persuasion amongst my hair

When thou camest fresh with the scent of some ruffled rose.

Ah, Wind, thou hast lain with the Desert,

I know her savour well,

And the spices wherewith she scents her breasts–

She who has known such countless lovers

Yet rarely borne a city among her sands–

Thou comest as one from a night of love,

Thy breath is broken and hard,–

Bringing echoes of lonely things,

Vast and cruel, that the soft and golden sands

Buried beneath thin ripples so long ago.

Ah, Wind, thou hast given me lovely things,

The scent of a thousand flowers,

And the heavy perfume of pollen-laden fields,

Strange snatches of wild song from the heart of the dark Bazaar

That thrilled to my very core,

Till I threw the sheet aside and rose to follow,–

But whither, or what?

Also, Wind, thou broughtest the breath of the sea,

The sound of its myriad waves.

And in nights when I lay on the lonely sands

Stretching mine arms to thee,

Thou gavest me something–faint and vast and sweet,

Something ineffable, wistful, from far away,

Elsewhere–Beyond–

And thou wast kind to me in my times of love,

Cooling my lips

That my lover wore away,

While, wafting the scent from his divided hair,

Thou show’dst the stars between

Far away, and eclipsed by his burning eyes

Even the stars.

And now I almost foresee the place and the hour

When I shall open my dying lips to thee

And receive a last cool kiss.

Afterwards, Wind, since I have always loved thee,–

Whirl my dust to the scented heart of a moghra flower,

_His_ flower, but, ah, thou knowest,–

So often thy kisses have mingled with his and mine.

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• Sonnet 46: Mine eye and heart are at a mortal war by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 45: The other two, slight air and purging fire by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 44: If the dull substance of my flesh were thought by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 42: That thou hast her, it is not all my grief by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 41: Those pretty wrongs that liberty commits by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 40: Take all my loves, my love, yea, take them all by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 3: Look in thy glass, and tell the face thou viewest by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 39: O, how thy worth with manners may I sing by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 38: How can my Muse want subject to invent by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 37: As a decrepit father takes delight by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 36: Let me confess that we two must be twain by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 35: No more be grieved at that which thou hast done by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 34: Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 33: Full many a glorious morning have I seen by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 74: But be contented when that fell arrest by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 72: O, lest the world should task you to recite by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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