After the Hazara War
I lie alone beneath the Almond blossoms,
Where we two lay together in the spring,
And now, as then, the mountain snows are melting,
This year, as last, the water-courses sing.
That was another spring, and other flowers,
Hung, pink and fragile, on the leafless tree,
The land rejoiced in other running water,
And I rejoiced, because you were with me.
You, with your soft eyes, darkly lashed and shaded,
Your red lips like a living, laughing rose,
Your restless, amber limbs so lithe and slender
Now lost to me. Gone whither no man knows.
You lay beside me singing in the sunshine;
The rough, white fur, unloosened at the neck,
Showed the smooth skin, fair as the Almond blossoms,
On which the sun could find no flaw or fleck.
I lie alone, beneath the Almond flowers,
I hated them to touch you as they fell.
And now, who killed you? worse, Ah, worse, who loves you?
(My soul is burning as men burn in Hell.)
How I have sought you in the crowded cities!
I have been mad, they say, for many days.
I know not how I came here, to the valley,
What fate has led me, through what doubtful ways.
Somewhere I see my sword has done good service,
Some one I killed, who, smiling, used your name,
But in what country? Nay, I have forgotten,
All thought is shrivelled in my heart’s hot flame.
Where are you now, Delight, and where your beauty,
Your subtle curls, and laughing, changeful face?
Bound, bruised and naked (dear God, grant me patience),
And sold in Cabul in the market-place.
I asked of you of all men. Who could tell me?
Among so many captured, sold, or slain,
What fate was yours? (Ah, dear God, grant me patience,
My heart is burnt, is burnt, with fire and pain.)
Oh, lost Delight! my heart is almost breaking,
My sword is broken and my feet are sore,
The people look at me and say in passing,
“He will not leave the village any more.”
For as the evening falls, the fever rises,
With frantic thoughts careering through the brain,
Wild thoughts of you. (Ah, dear God, grant me patience,
My soul is hurt beyond all men call pain.)
I lie alone, beneath the Almond blossoms,
And see the white snow melting on the hills
Till Khorassan is gay with water-courses,
Glad with the tinkling sound of running rills,
And well I know that when the fragile petals
Fall softly, ere the first green leaves appear,
(Ah, for these last few days, God, grant me patience,)
Since Delight is not, I shall not be, here!
A few random poems:
- The Aloe
- Алексей Хомяков – Раскаявшейся России
- Simon Lee: The Old Huntsman by William Wordsworth
- Омар Хайям – Что жизнь
- Diya {original title is Greek, Delta-iota-psi-alpha} poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- The English Flag by Rudyard Kipling
- In The Bus That Is Frantically Rushing From Cairo To Port Said
- Impromptu Lines to Captain Riddell by Robert Burns
- Bereft by Robert Frost
- Robert Burns: Altho’ He Has Left Me:
- The Rape of the Lock: Canto 3 poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- Ode to Poetry by Walter William Safar
- Bulgarian Lullaby by Vasil Slavov
- The Given Heart
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песня Лягушонка
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.