Famine Song

Death and Famine on every side

And never a sign of rain,

The bones of those who have starved and died

Unburied upon the plain.

What care have I that the bones bleach white?

To-morrow they may be mine,

But I shall sleep in your arms to-night

And drink your lips like wine!

Cholera, Riot, and Sudden Death,

And the brave red blood set free,

The glazing eye and the failing breath,–

But what are these things to me?

Your breath is quick and your eyes are bright

And your blood is red like wine,

And I shall sleep in your arms to-night

And hold your lips with mine!

I hear the sound of a thousand tears,

Like softly pattering rain,

I see the fever, folly, and fears

Fulfilling man’s tale of pain.

But for the moment your star is bright,

I revel beneath its shine,

For I shall sleep in your arms to-night

And feel your lips on mine!

And you need not deem me over cold,

That I do not stop to think

For all the pleasure this Life may hold

Is on the Precipice brink.

Thought could but lessen my soul’s delight,

And to-day she may not pine.

For I shall lie in your arms to-night

And close your lips with mine!

I trust what sorrow the Fates may send

I may carry quietly through,

And pray for grace when I reach the end,

To die as a man should do.

To-day, at least, must be clear and bright,

Without a sorrowful sign,

Because I sleep in your arms to-night

And feel your lips on mine!

So on I work, in the blazing sun,

To bury what dead we may,

But glad, oh, glad, when the day is done

And the night falls round us grey.

Would those we covered away from sight

Had a rest as sweet as mine!

For I shall sleep in your arms to-night

And drink your lips like wine!

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External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

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Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Robert Burns: Sappho Redivivus: Fragment by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Pegasus At Wanlockhead: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Ode, Sacred To The Memory Of Mrs. Oswald Of Auchencruive: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Robin Shure In Hairst: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Versicles On Sign-Posts : by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Henpecked Husband: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Elegy On The Year 1788: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Poet’s Progress : A Poem In Embryo by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Written In Friars Carse Hermitage: On Nithside by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Parting Kiss: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: My Bonie Mary: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Auld Lang Syne: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: It Is Na, Jean, Thy Bonie Face: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: I Reign In Jeanie’s Bosom: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Fall Of The Leaf: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: A Mother’s Lament For the Death of Her Son.: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: O, Were I On Parnassus Hill: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Day Returns: by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: Epistle To Robert Graham, Esq., Of Fintry: Requesting a Favour by Robert Burns
• Robert Burns: The Fete Champetre: by Robert Burns

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Doska or the Board – write anything

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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.

 

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