Just as the dawn of Love was breaking
Across the weary world of grey,
Just as my life once more was waking
As roses waken late in May,
Fate, blindly cruel and havoc-making,
Stepped in and carried you away.
Memories have I none in keeping
Of times I held you near my heart,
Of dreams when we were near to weeping
That dawn should bid us rise and part;
Never, alas, I saw you sleeping
With soft closed eyes and lips apart,
Breathing my name still through your dreaming.–
Ah! had you stayed, such things had been!
But Fate, unheeding human scheming,
Serenely reckless came between–
Fate with her cold eyes hard and gleaming
Unseared by all the sorrow seen.
Ah! well-beloved, I never told you,
I did not show in speech or song,
How at the end I longed to fold you
Close in my arms; so fierce and strong
The longing grew to have and hold you,
You, and you only, all life long.
They who know nothing call me fickle,
Keen to pursue and loth to keep.
Ah, could they see these tears that trickle
From eyes erstwhile too proud to weep.
Could see me, prone, beneath the sickle,
While pain and sorrow stand and reap!
Unopened scarce, yet overblown, lie
The hopes that rose-like round me grew,
The lights are low, and more than lonely
This life I lead apart from you.
Come back, come back! I want you only,
And you who loved me never knew.
You loved me, pleaded for compassion
On all the pain I would not share;
And I in weary, halting fashion
Was loth to listen, long to care;
But now, dear God! I faint with passion
For your far eyes and distant hair.
Yes, I am faint with love, and broken
With sleepless nights and empty days;
I want your soft words fiercely spoken,
Your tender looks and wayward ways–
Want that strange smile that gave me token
Of many things that no man says.
Cold was I, weary, slow to waken
Till, startled by your ardent eyes,
I felt the soul within me shaken
And long-forgotten senses rise;
But in that moment you were taken,
And thus we lost our Paradise!
Farewell, we may not now recover
That golden “Then” misspent, passed by,
We shall not meet as loved and lover
Here, or hereafter, you and I.
My time for loving you is over,
Love has no future, but to die.
And thus we part, with no believing
In any chance of future years.
We have no idle self-deceiving,
No half-consoling hopes and fears;
We know the Gods grant no retrieving
A wasted chance. Fate knows no tears.
A few random poems:
- The Key Note poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- Mora Jobana (My Youth) poem – Amir Khusro poems | Poems and Poetry
- Robert Burns: The Trogger.: Heron Election Ballad, No. IV.
- If Thou Could’st Empty All Thyself Of Self by Thomas Edward Brown
- Геннадий Айги – Дом в поле
- Владимир Маяковский – Да здравствует III интернационал! (РОСТА № 140)
- The Grammar Lesson by Steve Kowit
- Владимир Набоков – Вдали от берега, в мерцании морском
- Inscription For A Hermitage In The Author’s Garden by William Cowper
- Our March by Vladimir Mayakovsky
- Robert Burns: I Hae Been At Crookieden:
- Love Of Life poem – Alfred Austin
- Жан де Лафонтен – Голубь и Муравей
- Джон Мильтон – Псалом 1
- Time Well-Served by Luis Estable
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 Маяковский – Что значило “празднование новогоднее”?.. (РОСТА №672)
- Что такое хорошо и что такое плохо – Владимир Маяковский (Стих): Читать стихотворение на Poetry Monster
- Владимир Маяковский – Что такое II Интернационал?.. (РОСТА №133)
- Владимир Маяковский – Что сделать, чтоб Всероссийский съезд Советов… (РОСТА №662)
- Владимир Маяковский – Что может быть старей кустарей?.. (РОСТА №573)
- Владимир Маяковский – Что делать?.. (РОСТА №193)
- Владимир Маяковский – Что делать, чтоб сытому быть?.. (РОСТА №219)
- Владимир Маяковский – Что делать
- Владимир Маяковский – Чехарда в палате… (РОСТА №881)
- Владимир Маяковский – Четвертый вывоз
- Владимир Маяковский – Чемпионат всемирной классовой борьбы
- Владимир Маяковский – Чем отличается Красная Армия от царской?.. (РОСТА №559)
- Владимир Маяковский – Чье рождество
- Владимир Маяковский – Частушки (Милкой мне в подарок бурка…)
- Владимир Маяковский – Частушки
- Владимир Маяковский – Чаеуправление (реклама)
- Владимир Маяковский – Бюрократиада
- Владимир Маяковский – Было с белым много дел… (Главполитпросвет №44)
- Владимир Маяковский – Был без работы буржуям пир… (Главполитпросвет №24)
- Владимир Маяковский – Буржуй, прощайся с приятными деньками
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.