A poem by Alan Seeger (1888-1916)
Ruggiero, to amaze the British host,
And wake more wonder in their wondering ranks,
The bridle of his winged courser loosed,
And clapped his spurs into the creature’s flanks;
High in the air, even to the topmost banks
Of crudded cloud, uprose the flying horse,
And now above the Welsh, and now the Manx,
And now across the sea he shaped his course,
Till gleaming far below lay Erin’s emerald shores.
There round Hibernia’s fabled realm he coasted,
Where the old saint had left the holy cave,
Sought for the famous virtue that it boasted
To purge the sinful visitor and save.
Thence back returning over land and wave,
Ruggiero came where the blue currents flow,
The shores of Lesser Brittany to lave,
And, looking down while sailing to and fro,
He saw Angelica chained to the rock below.
‘Twas on the Island of Complaint — well named,
For there to that inhospitable shore,
A savage people, cruel and untamed,
Brought the rich prize of many a hateful war.
To feed a monster that bestead them sore,
They of fair ladies those that loveliest shone,
Of tender maidens they the tenderest bore,
And, drowned in tears and making piteous moan,
Left for that ravening beast, chained on the rocks alone.
Thither transported by enchanter’s art,
Angelica from dreams most innocent
(As the tale mentioned in another part)
Awoke, the victim for that sad event.
Beauty so rare, nor birth so excellent,
Nor tears that make sweet Beauty lovelier still,
Could turn that people from their harsh intent.
Alas, what temper is conceived so ill
But, Pity moving not, Love’s soft enthralment will?
On the cold granite at the ocean’s rim
These folk had chained her fast and gone their way;
Fresh in the softness of each delicate limb
The pity of their bruising violence lay.
Over her beauty, from the eye of day
To hide its pleading charms, no veil was thrown.
Only the fragments of the salt sea-spray
Rose from the churning of the waves, wind-blown,
To dash upon a whiteness creamier than their own.
Carved out of candid marble without flaw,
Or alabaster blemishless and rare,
Ruggiero might have fancied what he saw,
For statue-like it seemed, and fastened there
By craft of cunningest artificer;
Save in the wistful eyes Ruggiero thought
A teardrop gleamed, and with the rippling hair
The ocean breezes played as if they sought
In its loose depths to hide that which her hand might not.
Pity and wonder and awakening love
Strove in the bosom of the Moorish Knight.
Down from his soaring in the skies above
He urged the tenor of his courser’s flight.
Fairer with every foot of lessening height
Shone the sweet prisoner. With tightening reins
He drew more nigh, and gently as he might:
“O lady, worthy only of the chains
With which his bounden slaves the God of Love constrains,
“And least for this or any ill designed,
Oh, what unnatural and perverted race
Could the sweet flesh with flushing stricture bind,
And leave to suffer in this cold embrace
That the warm arms so hunger to replace?”
Into the damsel’s cheeks such color flew
As by the alchemy of ancient days
If whitest ivory should take the hue
Of coral where it blooms deep in the liquid blue.
Nor yet so tightly drawn the cruel chains
Clasped the slim ankles and the wounded hands,
But with soft, cringing attitudes in vain
She strove to shield her from that ardent glance.
So, clinging to the walls of some old manse,
The rose-vine strives to shield her tender flowers,
When the rude wind, as autumn weeks advance,
Beats on the walls and whirls about the towers
And spills at every blast her pride in piteous showers.
And first for choking sobs she might not speak,
And then, “Alas!” she cried, “ah, woe is me!”
And more had said in accents faint and weak,
Pleading for succor and sweet liberty.
But hark! across the wide ways of the sea
Rose of a sudden such a fierce affray
That any but the brave had turned to flee.
Ruggiero, turning, looked. To his dismay,
Lo, where the monster came to claim his quivering prey!
A few random poems:
- Юлия Друнина – Есть праздники, что навсегда с тобой
- Владимир Корнилов – Яблоки
- Владимир Набоков – О чем я думаю
- The Loving Game by Vernon Scannell
- Robert Burns: Sonnet Written On The Author’s Birthday, : On hearing a Thrush sing in his Morning Walk.
- Robert Burns: Lovely Polly Stewart:
- Станислав Востоков – Не умею
- Eclogue:–The ‘Lotments by William Barnes
- Ярослав Смеляков – Русский язык
- Николай Карамзин – К Алине на смерть ее супруга
- Rain After a Vaudeville Show by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Look You, I’ll Go Pray by Vachel Lindsay
- How Distant by Philip Larkin
- fruit_leaf_roots_flowers.html
- Night by William Morris
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
- Владимир Набоков – Как часто я в поезде скором
- Владимир Набоков – К Родине
- Владимир Набоков – Из мира уползли, и ноют на луне
- Владимир Набоков – И видел я, стемнели неба своды
- Владимир Набоков – Глаза
- Владимир Набоков – Есть в одиночестве свобода
- Владимир Набоков – Еще безмолвствую и крепну я в тиши
- Владимир Набоков – Цветет миндаль на перекрестке
- Владимир Набоков – Будь со мной прозрачнее и проще
- Владимир Набоков – Большая медведица
- Владимир Набоков – Безумец
- Владимир Набоков – Барс
- Владимир Маяковский – Журнал “Крысодав”
- Владимир Маяковский – Живой труп (РОСТА №182)
- Владимир Маяковский – Жид
- Владимир Маяковский – Земля наша обильна
- Владимир Маяковский – Застрельщики
- Владимир Маяковский – Заря Коммуны разгорается туго… (РОСТА №856)
- Владимир Маяковский – Заносы не дают железным дорогам жить… (РОСТА №838)
- Владимир Маяковский – Заграничная штучка
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
Alan Seeger (1888-1916) was an American war poet who fought and died in World War I during the Battle of the Somme, serving in the French Foreign Legion. Seeger was the brother of Charles Seeger, a noted American pacifist and musicologist and the uncle of folk musician, Pete Seeger.