There were Roses in the hedges, and Sunshine in the sky,
Red Lilies in the sedges, where the water rippled by,
A thousand Bulbuls singing, oh, how jubilant they were,
And a thousand flowers flinging their sweetness on the air.
But you, who sat beside me, had a shadow in your eyes,
Their sadness seemed to chide me, when I gave you scant replies;
You asked “Did I remember?” and “When had I ceased to care?”
In vain you fanned the ember, for the love flame was not there.
“And so, since you are tired of me, you ask me to forget,
What is the use of caring, now that you no longer care?
When Love is dead his Memory can only bring regret,
But how can I forget you with the flowers in your hair?”
What use the scented Roses, or the azure of the sky?
They are sweet when Love reposes, but then he had to die.
What could I do in leaving you, but ask you to forget,–
I suffered, too, in grieving you; I all but loved you yet.
But half love is a treason, that no lover can forgive,
I had loved you for a season, I had no more to give.
You saw my passion faltered, for I could but let you see,
And it was not I that altered, but Fate that altered me.
And so, since I am tired of love, I ask you to forget,
What is the use you caring, now that I no longer care?
When Love is dead, his Memory can only bring regret;
Forget me, oh, forget me, and my flower-scented hair!
A few random poems:
- The Hand In The Dark
- Epistle to a Young Friend by Robert Burns
- Владимир Маяковский – Пустяк у Оки
- Mossbawn: Two Poems in Dedication by Seamus Heaney
- Владимир Высоцкий – Куплеты Бенгальского
- Ballade Of Worldly Wealth poem – Andrew Lang poems
- The Rhyme of the Three Sealers by Rudyard Kipling
- And ask ye why these sad tears stream? poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- 1777 poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- gratitudes_of_a_dozen_roses.html
- Владимир Гандельсман – Воскрешение матери
- The Clime Of My Birth by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Robert Burns: Epistle To J. Lapraik, An Old Scottish Bard:
- A Woman’s Fancy by Thomas Hardy
- Indian Summer by William Ellery Leonard
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
- Robert Burns: Anna, Thy Charms:
- Robert Burns: To Alex. Cunningham, ESQ., Writer: Ellisland, Nithsdale, July 27th, 1788.
- Robert Burns: Lines Written In Friars’-Carse Hermitage:
- Robert Burns: I Hae a Wife O’ My Ain:
- Robert Burns: Of A’ The Airts The Wind Can Blaw:
- Robert Burns: Epistle To Hugh Parker:
- Robert Burns: The Chevalier’s Lament:
- Robert Burns: Verses To Clarinda: Sent with a Pair of Wine-Glasses.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lad That’s Far Awa:
- Robert Burns: The Winter It Is Past:
- Robert Burns: To Daunton Me:
- Robert Burns: Talk Of Him That’s Far Awa:
- Robert Burns: The Lad They Ca’Jumpin John:
- Robert Burns: Duncan Davison :
- Robert Burns: Hey, The Dusty Miller:
- Robert Burns: How Long And Dreary Is The Night :
- Robert Burns: Up In The Morning Early:
- Robert Burns: Up In The Morning Early:
- Robert Burns: Verses To Clarinda: Sent with a Pair of Wine-Glasses.
- Robert Burns: The Bonie Lad That’s Far Awa:
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.