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:
- intertwined by rachel wright
- Николай Заболоцкий – Цирк
- A Little Song poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Peace of Mind poem – Amit Shankar Saha poems | Poems and Poetry
- Scars on Paper by Marilyn Hacker
- Sonnet 141: In faith, I do not love thee with mine eyes by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet CXL by William Shakespeare
- Наум Коржавин – Легкость
- Since We Must Die poem – Alfred Austin
- Омар Хайям – Лучше впасть в нищету, голодать или красть
- Николай Карамзин – Послание к Александру Алексеевичу Плещееву
- The Giver by Sara Teasdale
- The Bear, The Fire, And The Snow by Shel Silverstein
- Cut Grass by Philip Larkin
- A Letter To Doctor Ingelo, then With My Lord Whitlock, Amba poem – Andrew Marvell 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
- Николай Рубцов – Зимняя песня
- Николай Рубцов – Жеребенок
- Николай Рубцов – Загородил мою дорогу
- Николай Рубцов – Я тебя целовал
- Николай Рубцов – Хороший улов
- Николай Рубцов – Возвращение из рейса
- Николай Рубцов – Воробей
- Николай Рубцов – Ветер всхлипывал, словно дитя
- Николай Рубцов – Весна на берегу Бии
- Николай Огарев – Я сорвал ветку кипариса
- Николай Огарев – Хандра
- Николай Огарев – Выпьем, что ли, Ваня
- Николай Огарев – В прогулке поздней видел я
- Николай Огарев – Тебе я счастья не давал довольно
- Николай Огарев – Свисти ты, о ветер, с бессонною силой
- Николай Огарев – Смутные мгновенья
- Николай Огарев – С полуночи ветер холодный подул
- Николай Огарев – Расстались мы
- Николай Огарев – Прощанье с краем, откуда не уезжал
- Николай Огарев – Предисловие к колоколу
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.