Oh, come, Beloved, before my beauty fades,
Pity the sorrow of my loneliness.
I am a Rosebush that the Cypress shades,
No sunbeams find or lighten my distress.
Daily I watch the waning of my bloom.
Ah, piteous fading of a thing so fair!
While Fate, remorseless, weaving at her loom,
Twines furtive silver in my twisted hair.
This noon I watched a tremulous fading rose
Rise on the wind to court a butterfly.
“One speck of pollen, ere my petals close,
Bring me one touch of love before I die!”
But the gay butterfly, who had the power
To grant, refused, flew far across the dell,
And, as he fertilised a younger flower,
The petals of the rose, defrauded, fell.
Such was my fate, thou hast not come to me,
Thine eyes are absent, and thy voice is mute,
Though I am slim, as this Papaya tree,
With breasts out-pointing, even as its fruit.
Beauty was mine, it brought me no caress,
My lips were red, yet there were none to taste,
I saw my youth consume in loneliness,
And all the fervour of my heart run waste.
While I still hoped that Thou would’st come to me,
I and the garden waited for their Lord.
Here He will rest, beneath this Champa tree;
Hence, all ye spike-set grasses from the sward!
In this cool rillet I shall bathe His feet,
Come, rounded pebbles from a smoother shore.
This is the honey that His lips will eat,
Hasten, O bees, enhance the amber store!
Ripen, ye Custard Apples, round and fair,
Practise your songs, O Bulbuls, on the bough,
Surely some sweeter sweetness haunts the air;
Maybe His feet draw near us, even now!
Disperse, ye fireflies, clustered on the palm,
Love heeds no lamp, he welcomes moonless skies:
Soon shall ye find, O stars, serene and calm,
Your sparkling rivals in my lover’s eyes!
Closely I wove my leafy Jasmin bowers,
Hoping to hide my pleasure and my shame,
Where the Lantana’s indecisive flowers
Vary from palest rose to orange flame.
Ay, there were lovely hours, ‘neath fern and palm,
Almost my aching longing I forgot.
White nights of silence, noons of golden calm,
All past, all wasted, since Thou camest not!
Night after night the Champa trees distilled
Their cruel sweetness on the careless air.
Noon after noon I watched the Bulbuls build,
And saw with hungry eyes the Sun-birds pair.
None came, and none will come; no use to wait,–
Youth’s fragrance dies, its tender light dies down.
I will arise, before it grows too late,
And seek the noisy brilliance of the town.
These many waiting years I longed for gold,
Now must I needs console me with alloy.
Before this beauty fades, this pulse grows cold,
I may not love, I will at least enjoy!
Farewell, my Solitude of scented flowers,
Across whose glades the emerald parrots gleam,
Haunt of false hope, and home of wasted hours,
I am awake, at last,–Guard thou the dream!
A few random poems:
- The Soldiers Grave
- Robert Burns: Prologue: Spoken by Mr. Woods on his benefit-night, Monday, 16th April, 1787
- Palanquin Bearers by Sarojini Naidu
- To the Garden the World. by Walt Whitman
- Николай Гумилев – На Дуксе ли, на Бенце ль я
- Summer by Luther Seahand
- Владимир Британишский – Итальянское путешествие
- A Dream Of Death by William Butler Yeats
- Владимир Костров – Видение на озере
- His Last Sonnet poem – John Keats poems
- Sonnet 03: Canzone poem – John Milton poems
- Reveille poem – A. E. Housman
- Nearly A Valediction by Marilyn Hacker
- The Fall of Jock Gillespie by Rudyard Kipling
- The Valley Of Dry Bones poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
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: To A Louse: On Seeing One On A Lady’s Bonnet, At Church
- Robert Burns: To Mr. M’Adam, Of Craigen-Gillan: In answer to an obliging Letter he sent in the commencement of my poetic career.
- Robert Burns: To John Kennedy, Dumfries House:
- Robert Burns: The Inventory: In answer to a mandate by the Surveyor of the Taxes
- Robert Burns: Address To The Unco Guid, Or The Rigidly Righteous:
- Robert Burns: Here’s His Health In Water :
- Robert Burns: The Rantin’ Dog, The Daddie O’t:
- Robert Burns: The Vision:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To James Smith:
- Robert Burns: The Ordination : For sense they little owe to frugal Heav’n- To please the mob, they hide the little giv’n.
- Robert Burns: The Author’s Earnest Cry And Prayer: To the Right Honourable and Honourable Scotch Representatives in the House of Commons.
- Robert Burns: The Twa Dogs: A Tale
- Robert Burns: The Auld Farmer’s New-Year-Morning Salutation To His Auld Mare, Maggie: On giving her the accustomed ripp of corn to hansel in the New Year.
- Robert Burns: Scotch Drink :
- Robert Burns: Address To The Deil:
- Robert Burns: The Cotter’s Saturday Night: Inscribed to R. Aiken, Esq., of Ayr.
- Robert Burns: Merry Hae I Been Teethin A Heckle:
- Robert Burns: For A’ That:
- Robert Burns: The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata:
- Robert Burns: Adam Armour’s Prayer:
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.