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!
A few random poems:
- He Who Creates Re Creates Himself
- Владимир Маяковский – Думай об армии (РОСТА №873)
- Against Fruition
- The Sonnet, The Lady, And The Prince by William Alexander
- Spring Rain by Sara Teasdale
- Each small gleam was a voice, by Stephen Crane
- Владимир Степанов – Весёлый транспорт
- Шекспир – Как и любовь – Сонет 151
- Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid? poem – John Keats poems
- Олег Бундур – Барашки
- Cradle Song poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Cain and Abel by Rudyard Kipling
- Olney Hymn 34: The Waiting Soul by William Cowper
- Sonnet CXXIX by William Shakespeare
- Autumn poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
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 Гиляровский – Чем дальше в море
- Владимир Гиляровский – Белоснежные туманы
- Владимир Гандельсман – Воскрешение матери
- Владимир Домрин – Якутия
- Владимир Динец – Над степью весенней
- Владимир Данько – Верхом на палочке
- Владимир Корнилов – Звезды
- Владимир Корнилов – Жизнь
- Владимир Корнилов – Женщины
- Владимир Корнилов – Жара
- Владимир Корнилов – Зачем
- Владимир Корнилов – Яблоки
- Владимир Корнилов – Халабуда
- Владимир Корнилов – Вязальщица
- Владимир Корнилов – Встреча
- Владимир Корнилов – Ворон
- Владимир Корнилов – Военный оркестр
- Владимир Корнилов – Вечер Гарри Каспарова в Политехническом
- Владимир Корнилов – В прачечной
- Владимир Корнилов – В Македонии
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.