A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
I
Who was it held that Love was soothing or sweet?
Mine is a painful fire, at its whitest heat.
Who said that Beauty was ever a gentle joy?
Thine is a sword that flashes but to destroy.
Though mine eyes rose up from thy Beauty’s banquet, calm and refreshed,
My lips, that were granted naught, can find no rest.
My soul was linked with thine, through speech and silent hours,
As the sound of two soft flutes combined, or the scent of sister flowers.
But the body, that wretched slave of the Sultan, Mind,
Who follows his master ever, but far behind,
Nothing was granted him, and every rebellious cell
Rises up with angry protest, “It is not well!
Night is falling; thou hast departed; I am alone;
And the Last Sweetness of Love thou hast not given–I have not known!”
II
Somewhere, Oh, My Beloved One, the house is standing,
Waiting for thee and me; for our first caresses.
It may be a river-boat, or a wave-washed landing,
The shade of a tree in the jungle’s dim recesses,
Some far-off mountain tent, ill-pitched and lonely,
Or the naked vault of the purple heavens only.
But the Place is waiting there; till the Hour shall show it,
And our footsteps, following Fate, find it and know it.
Where we shall worship the greatest of all the Gods in his pomp and power,–
I sometimes think that I shall not care to survive that hour!
A few random poems:
- Smoke Off by Shel Silverstein
- Elegy II. On The Death Of The University Beadle At Cambridge (Translated From Milton) by William Cowper
- Юрий Левитанский – Как зарок от суесловья, как залог
- Reply to the Threat of a Censorious Critic by Robert Burns
- What We Leave Behind by Robert Saltzman
- Владимир Маяковский – Пилсудский
- Robert Burns: Epistle From Esopus To Maria :
- A Cradle Song by William Butler Yeats
- Feelings Of The Tyrolese by William Wordsworth
- Eclogue:–The Veäiries by William Barnes
- Passion For Light
- As the Time Draws Nigh. by Walt Whitman
- The Chinese Nightingale by Vachel Lindsay
- Sonnet 109: O, never say that I was false of heart by William Shakespeare
- Sunstroke
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
- Fleeting Thoughts by Mac McGovern
- Father And Son by Mac McGovern
- Eco en la madrugada by Mara Romero Torres
- Down in the valley by Marcin Malek
- Diary of a Palestinian Wound by Mahmoud Darwish
- Childhood by Margaret Walker
- As He Walks Away by Mahmoud Darwish
- An Interchanging Poetry Expression Of Love by Mac McGovern
- AN INSPIRATIONAL VILLANELLE: by Manish Thakur
- An Honest Poet’s Life Is Full Of Care by Malcolm Massiah
- Al calor de una guitarra by Mara Romero Torres
- Ahmad Al-Za’tar by Mahmoud Darwish
- A Noun Sentence by Mahmoud Darwish
- A Lover From Palestine by Mahmoud Darwish
- Your choice by Mrunmayi Mandan
- Yin and Yang by Muralidharan Mudaliar
- Worry by Mridula Makkuni
- Twiddle-de-dee by Muralidharan Mudaliar
- The Wedding Night by Mukeshkumar Raval
- The Storm by Muralidharan Mudaliar
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.