“Repent, or I will come unto thee quickly, and will fight thee with the sword of my mouth.”
-Revelation ii. 16.
I
Ashkelon is not cut off with the remnant of a valley.
Baldness dwells not upon Gaza.
The field of the valley is mine, and it is clothed in verdure.
The steepness of Baal-perazim is mine;
And the Philistines spread themselves in the valley of Rephaim.
They shall yet be delivered into my hands.
For the God of Battles has gone before me!
The sword of the mouth shall smite them to dust.
I have slept in the darkness-
But the seventh angel woke me, and giving me a sword of flame, points to the blood-ribbed cloud, that lifts his reeking head above the mountain.
Thus am I the prophet.
I see the dawn that heralds to my waiting soul the advent of power.
Power that will unseal the thunders!
Power that will give voice to graves!
Graves of the living;
Graves of the dying;
Graves of the sinning;
Graves of the loving;
Graves of the despairing;
And oh! graves of the deserted!
These shall speak, each as their voices shall be loosed.
And the day is dawning.
II
Stand back, ye Philistines!
Practice what ye preach to me;
I heed ye not, for I know ye all.
Ye are living burning lies, and profanation to the garments which with stately steps ye sweep you marble palaces.
Ye places of Sin, around which the damning evidence of guilt hangs like a reeking vapor.
Stand back!
I would pass up the golden road of the world.
A place in the ranks awaits me.
I know that ye are hedged on the borders of my path.
Lie and tremble, for ye well know that I hold with iron grasp the battle axe.
Creep back to your dark tents in the valley.
Slouch back to your haunts of crime.
Ye do not know me, neither do ye see me.
But the sword of the mouth is unsealed, and ye coil yourselves in slime and bitterness at my feet.
I mix your jeweled heads, and your gleaming eyes, and your hissing tongues with the dust.
My garments shall bear no mark of ye.
When I shall return this sword to the angel, your foul blood will not stain its edge.
It will glimmer with the light of truth, and the strong arm shall rest.
III
Stand back!
I am no Magdalene waiting to kiss the hem of your garment.
It is mid-day.
See ye not what is written on my forehead?
I am Judith!
I wait for the head of my Holofernes!
Ere the last tremble of the conscious death-agony shall have shuddered, I will show it to ye with the long black hair clinging to the glazed eyes, and the great mouth opened in search of voice, and the strong throat all hot and reeking with blood, that will thrill me with wild unspeakable joy as it courses down my bare body and dabbles my cold feet!
My sensuous soul will quake with the burden of so much bliss.
Oh, what wild passionate kisses will I draw up from that bleeding mouth!
I will strangle this pallid throat of mine on the sweet blood!
I will revel in my passion.
At midnight I will feast on it in the darkness.
For it was that which thrilled its crimson tides of reckless passion through the blue veins of my life, and made them leap up in the wild sweetness of Love and agony of Revenge!
I am starving for this feast.
Oh forget not that I am Judith!
And I know where sleeps Holofernes.
A few random poems:
- The Loving Game by Vernon Scannell
- Омар Хайям – Для тех, кто умирает
- Return Of The Heroes by Siegfried Sassoon
- Валерий Брюсов – Дрожащие листья на бледные щеки
- The Puzzled Game-Birds by Thomas Hardy
- A Thanksgiving to God for His House by Robert Herrick
- I had a little nut-tree, by Roald Dahl
- The Convoy by Stephenie Tucker
- Robert Burns: Why, Why Tell The Lover: Fragment,
- Stalker poem – Alice Notley
- The Snake
- Less Than The Cloud To The Wind by Sara Teasdale
- Robert Burns: Anna, Thy Charms:
- The Illinois Village by Vachel Lindsay
- South Africa by Rudyard Kipling
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 Костров – Мы на тяге ракетной берёзовых дров
- Владимир Костров – Душа, не кайся и не майся
- Владимир Костров – До чего нестерпимо и жёстко подуло
- Владимир Костров – Что может знать чужак
- Владимир Костров – Ботанический сад МГУ
- Владимир Костров – Бедное сердце болит спозаранку
- Владимир Костров – 1380 год
- Владислав Крапивин – Все спит в тропической ночи
- Владислав Крапивин – В южных морях и у севера дальнего
- Владислав Крапивин – Тяжелый толчок и вспышка у глаз
- Владислав Крапивин – Спокойная ночь
- Владислав Крапивин – Рыжий конь
- Владислав Крапивин – Под ветрами нам плыть
- Владислав Крапивин – На Диком Западе
- Владислав Крапивин – Маленький принц
- Владислав Крапивин – Когда тебя замучил враг
- Владислав Крапивин – Гонка
- Владислав Крапивин – Было все хорошо до недавней поры
- Владислав Крапивин – А по ночам у высокого плетня
- Владимир Вологдин – Не играйте, мальчики, в войну
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
Adah Isaacs Menken (1835 – 1868) was an American actress and a performer, who painted painter and wrote a number of poems (31 published so far). She was supposedly the highest earning actress of her time. She was best known for her performance in the hippodrama Mazeppa (with libretto based on Pushkin’s work), it is said that the climax of the spectacle featured her apparently nude and riding a horse on stage. After great success for a few years with the play in New York and San Francisco, she appeared in a production in London and Paris, from 1864 to 1866. She was a friend of Alexander Dumas. Adah Menken died in Paris at the age of 33