A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Ay, thou has found thy kingdom, Yasin Khan,
Thy fathers’ pomp and power are thine, at last.
No more the rugged roads of Khorasan,
The scanty food and tentage of the past!
Wouldst thou make war? thy followers know no fear.
Where shouldst thou lead them but to victory?
Wouldst thou have love? thy soft-eyed slaves draw near,
Eager to drain thy strength away from thee.
My thoughts drag backwards to forgotten days,
To scenes etched deeply on my heart by pain;
The thirsty marches, ambuscades, and frays,
The hostile hills, the burnt and barren plain.
Hast thou forgotten how one night was spent,
Crouched in a camel’s carcase by the road,
Along which Akbar’s soldiers, scouting, went,
And he himself, all unsuspecting, rode?
Did we not waken one despairing dawn,
Attacked in front, cut off in rear, by snow,
Till, like a tiger leaping on a fawn,
Half of the hill crashed down upon the foe?
Once, as thou mournd’st thy lifeless brother’s fate,
The red tears falling from thy shattered wrist,
A spent Waziri, forceful still, in hate,
Covered they heart, ten paces off,–and missed!
Ahi, men thrust a worn and dinted sword
Into a velvet-scabbarded repose;
The gilded pageants that salute thee Lord
Cover _one_ sorrow-rusted heart, God knows.
Ah, to exchange this wealth of idle days
For one cold reckless night of Khorasan!
To crouch once more before the camp-fire blaze
That lit the lonely eyes of Yasin Khan.
To watch the starlight glitter on the snows,
The plain stretched round us like a waveless sea,
Waiting until thy weary lids should close
To slip my furs and spread them over thee.
How the wind howled about the lonely pass,
While the faint snow-shine of that plateaued space
Lit, where it lay upon the frozen grass,
The mournful, tragic beauty of thy face.
Thou hast enough caressed the scented hair
Of these soft-breasted girls who waste thee so.
Hast thou not sons for every adult year?
Let us arise, O Yasin Khan, and go!
Let us escape from these prison bars
To gain the freedom of an open sky,
Thy soul and mine, alone beneath the stars,
Intriguing danger, as in days gone by.
Nay; there is no returning, Yasin Khan.
The white peaks ward the passes, as of yore,
The wind sweeps o’er the wastes of Khorasan;–
But thou and I go thitherward no more.
Close, ah, too close, the bitter knowledge clings,
We may not follow where my fancies yearn.
The years go hence, and wild and lovely things,
_Their own_, go with them, never to return.
A few random poems:
- Алишер Навои – Двух резвых своих газелей, которые нежно спят
- Низами Гянджеви – Жить в заботе и невзгодах, расточая зло
- A Sight in Camp. by Walt Whitman
- Doomes-Day: The Eleventh Houre by William Alexander
- Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day poem – Alexander Pope
- Владимир Британишский – Снились двое товарищей по Салехарду
- Федор Тютчев – Как верно здравый смысл народа
- Kumarakom (after the boat tragedy) by Shreekumar Varma
- Алексей Жемчужников – Уже давно иду я, утомленный
- Epigram : On The Inventor Of Gunpowder (Translated From Milton) by William Cowper
- Stings by Sylvia Plath
- Light by Tala Bar
- It Would poem – Alice Notley
- The Bird Has Vanished by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Ольга Седакова – Вениамин
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
- Four Quartets 4: Little Gidding by T. S. Eliot
- Four Quartets 3: The Dry Salvages by T. S. Eliot
- Four Quartets 2: East Coker by T. S. Eliot
- Four Quartets 1: Burnt Norton by T. S. Eliot
- Dans le Restaurant by T. S. Eliot
- Cousin Nancy by T. S. Eliot
- Conversation Galante by T. S. Eliot
- Bustopher Jones: The Cat About Town by T. S. Eliot
- Burbank with a Baedeker: Bleistein with a Cigar by T. S. Eliot
- Aunt Helen by T. S. Eliot
- Ash Wednesday by T. S. Eliot
- A Cooking Egg by T. S. Eliot
- Woman by Tala Bar
- Walk with Me by Tammy L Ames
- Today’s News by Ted Berrigan
- The Woman Of His Dreams by Talha Jafri
- The Soundless Ocean by Tanmoy
- The Poet by Thom Douglas Carlisle
- The Narrative by Talha Jafri
- The Garden by Tammy L. Ames
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.