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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Poems in English 

• A Rustic Seat Near The Sea by William Lisle Bowles by William Lisle Bowles
• A Garden-Seat At Home by William Lisle Bowles by William Lisle Bowles
• Where fair Sabrina’s wand’ring currents flow by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To the Right Hon. The Earl of Halifax , with the Fable of the Two Springs by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To the Right Hon. Lady Anne Coventry by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To the Duke of Marlborough, upon His Removal From All His Places by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To the Author of the The Essay on Man by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To Dr. MReading Mathmatics by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To a Young Lady, with the Illiad of Homer Translated by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To a Lady, Who Made Me a Present of a Silver Pen by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To a Gentleman, Who Married His Cast Mistress by William Somervile by William Somerville
• To a Discarded Toast by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Yeoman of Kent by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Wolf and the Dog by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Wise Builder by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Two Springs by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The True Use of the Looking-Glass by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Superannuated Lover by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Sheep and the Bush by William Somervile by William Somerville
• The Lamentation of David Over Saul and Jonathan by William Somervile by William Somerville

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