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:
- The Empty Boats by Vachel Lindsay
- In a Disused Graveyard by Robert Frost
- Invocation To The Earth, February 1816 by William Wordsworth
- Николай Глазков – Без поражений нет побед
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- Epigram on Parting with a kind Host in the Highlands by Robert Burns
- I am only the house of your beloved by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi
- In Springtime by Rudyard Kipling
- Hope, Like The Short-lived Ray That Gleams Awhile by William Cowper
- Where Is David, the Next King of Israel? by Vachel Lindsay
- Яков Полонский – Поэт и гражданин, он призван был учить
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
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Poems in English
- Early summer rain by Yosa Buson
- Dawn by Yosa Buson
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- Calligraphy of geese by Yosa Buson
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- Blown from the west by Yosa Buson
- Blow of an ax by Yosa Buson
- Before the white chrysanthemum by Yosa Buson
- A bat flits by Yosa Buson
- Untitled XXVII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXVI by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIV by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XXI by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XX by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XVIII by Yunus Emre
- Untitled XVII by Yunus Emre
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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.