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 Sun Was Slumbering in the West by Thomas Hood
- The Kiss by Rabindranath Tagore
- Turns by Tony Harrison
- The Flight by Rudyard Kipling
- The Dead Woman poem – Pablo Neruda
- four legs good, two legs badOwl Hoots and Grasshopper Sings by Raj Arumugam
- Альфред де Мюссе – Люси
- Lamia. Part II poem – John Keats poems
- The Undeniable Pressure of Existence by Patricia Fargnoli
- Robert Burns: Tam Samson’s Elegy: When this worthy old sportman went out, last muirfowl season, he supposed it was to be, in Ossian’s phrase, “the last of his fields,” and expressed an ardent wish to die and be buried in the muirs. On this hint the author composed his elegy and epitaph.-R.B., 1787.
- The First Lover
- A Complaint by William Wordsworth
- Path by Pierre Reverdy
- Love Sonnet LX poem – Zora Bernice May Cross poems
- Song at Sunset. by Walt Whitman
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
- Robert Burns: Come, Let Me Take Thee To My Breast:
- Robert Burns: Phillis The Queen O’ The Fair:
- Robert Burns: Whistle, And I’ll Come To You, My Lad:
- Robert Burns: By Allan Stream:
- Robert Burns: Had I A Cave:
- Robert Burns: Phillis The Fair:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On The Laird Of Laggan:
- Robert Burns: Epigrams Against The Earl Of Galloway:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph On A Lap-Dog Named Echo:
- Robert Burns: Bonie Jean-A Ballad:
- Robert Burns: O Were My Love Yon Lilac Fair:
- Robert Burns: Blythe Hae I been On Yon Hill:
- Robert Burns: Logan Braes:
- Robert Burns: The Last Time I Came O’er The Moor:
- Robert Burns: Impromptu On General Dumourier’s Desertion From The French Republican Army:
- Robert Burns: Grace Before And After Meat :
- Robert Burns: Grace After Meat:
- Robert Burns: Extempore Reply To An Invitation:
- Robert Burns: Kirk and State Excisemen:
- Robert Burns: The Raptures Of Folly:
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.