Lie still, Beloved, I also see the day
Shoot his white arrows through the trembling sky,
But what is dawn to us, who cast away
All sense of time that mars our ecstasy ?
The scented orange bushes check the breeze
Granting in tribute many waxen stars,
And aromatic Eucalyptus trees
Defy the sun with grey-green scimitars.
Since fate has given us this garden love,
And Time and Space, for once, have acquiesced,
Ah, take no heed of paling skies above
Let us deem night is with us yet, and rest.
Let us lie still and drift away in dreams.
Back to the jewelled kingdom of the night.
Whose golden stars with dimly radiant gleams
Lit up your loveliness for my delight.
Once we are risen all the cares of day
Will seize and bind us to their wanton will.
Why should we own that night has passed away ?
Oh, as you value love, lie still, lie still!
A few random poems:
- Did Shakespeare write his own plays and poems?
- Омар Хайям – И сиянье рая, и ада огни
- In A Garden by Sara Teasdale
- Ecco Mormorar L’onde (Now The Waves Murmur) by Torquato Tasso
- Factory Windows are Always Broken by Vachel Lindsay
- Владимир Маяковский – Увеличивается ли питание Москвы… (Главполитпросвет №234)
- The Valley Of Dry Bones poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Song Of Four Faries poem – John Keats poems
- Bloodstains from Iraq poem – Yuyutsu Sharma poems | Poetry Monster
- Untitled V by Yunus Emre
- Prize poem – Amanda James DIll poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Высоцкий – Ублажаю ли душу романсом
- Et Le Marbre Creuse… by Martine Morillon-Carreau
- In a Vale by Robert Frost
- NOCHE MARINA by Victoria l.mora paoli
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: My Peggy’s Charms:
- Robert Burns: Braving Angry Winter’s Storms:
- Robert Burns: The Banks Of The Devon:
- Robert Burns: Epitaph For Mr. W. Cruikshank:
- Robert Burns: A Rose-Bud By My Early Walk:
- Robert Burns: Blythe Was She:
- Robert Burns: On Scaring Some Water-Fowl In Loch-Turit : A wild scene among the Hills of Oughtertyre.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lass Of Albany:
- Robert Burns: Theniel Menzies’ Bonie Mary:
- Robert Burns: Lady Onlie, Honest Lucky:
- Robert Burns: Castle Gordon:
- Robert Burns: Strathallan’s Lament:
- Robert Burns: Epigram On Parting With A Kind Host In The Highlands:
- Robert Burns: Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch-Ness.: Written with a Pencil on the Spot.
- Robert Burns: The Humble Petition Of Bruar Water: To the noble Duke of Athole.
- Robert Burns: The Birks Of Aberfeldy:
- Robert Burns: Verses Written With A Pencil Over the Chimney-piece in the Parlour of the Inn at Kenmore, Taymouth.:
- Robert Burns: The Libeller’s Self-Reproof:
- Robert Burns: The Poet’s Reply To The Threat Of A Censorious Critic: My imprudent lines were answered, very petulantly, by somebody, I believe, a Rev. Mr. Hamilton. In a MS., where I met the answer, I wrote below:-
- Robert Burns: Written By Somebody On The Window Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.: Of an Inn at Stirling, on seeing the Royal Palace in ruin.
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.