Kotri By The River

At Kotri, by the river, when the evening’s sun is low,

The waving palm trees quiver, the golden waters glow,

The shining ripples shiver, descending to the sea;

At Kotri, by the river, she used to wait for me.

So young, she was, and slender, so pale with wistful eyes

As luminous and tender as Kotri’s twilight skies.

Her face broke into flowers, red flowers at the mouth,

Her voice,–she sang for hours like bulbuls in the south.

We sat beside the water through burning summer days,

And many things I taught her of Life and all its ways

Of Love, man’s loveliest duty, of Passion’s reckless pain,

Of Youth, whose transient beauty comes once, but not again.

She lay and laughed and listened beside the water’s edge.

The glancing rirer glistened and glinted through the sedge.

Green parrots flew above her and, as the daylight died,

Her young arms drew her lover more closely to her side.

Oh days so warm and golden! oh nights so cool and still!

When Love would not be holden, and Pleasure had his will.

Days, when in after leisure, content to rest we lay,

Nights, when her lips’ soft pressure drained all my life away.

And while we sat together, beneath the Babul trees,

The fragrant, sultry weather cooled by the river breeze,

If passion faltered ever, and left the senses free,

We heard the tireless river decending to the sea.

I know not where she wandered, or went in after days,

Or if her youth she squandered in Love’s more doubtful ways.

Perhaps, beside the river, she died, still young and fair;

Perchance the grasses quiver above her slumber there.

At Kotri, by the river, maybe I too shall sleep

The sleep that lasts for ever, too deep for dreams; too deep.

Maybe among the shingle and sand of floods to be

Her dust and mine may mingle and float away to sea.

Ah Kotri, by the river, when evening’s sun is low,

Your faint reflections quiver, your golden ripples glow.

You knew, oh Kotri river, that love which could not last.

For me your palms still shiver with passions of the past.

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Poems in English 

• Василий Курочкин – На погребение бедового критика by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Мы всё смешное косим, косим by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Мчит меня в твои объятья by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Казацкие стихотворения by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Как не вскрикнуть тут с поэтом by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Двуглавый орел by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Курочкин – Дама приятная во всех отношениях by Василий Kурочкин
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Москва майская by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Марш веселых ребят by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Жрец искусства by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Здравствуй, школа by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Закаляйся by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Водовоз by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Веселый ветер by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – В метро by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – В дальний путь идут корабли by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Только на фронте by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Так говорил танкистам политрук by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Лебедев-Кумач – Священная война: стих “Вставай, страна огромная”, текст песни на Poetry Monster by Василий Лебедев-Кумач
• Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Стихи не на тему by Василий Лебедев-Кумач

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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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