Oh, Life, I have taken you for my Lover,
I rent your veils and I found you fair ;
If a fault or failing my eyes discover,
I will not see it; it is not there !
I know, if I knew, I should hold you dearer,
Should understand, if I understood,
For I worship more, as you draw me nearer,
Your reckless Evil, your perfect Good.
In the Jungle gloom, we have watched and waited,
For stealthy Panthers, that prowl by night,
At the end of some weary march, belated,
We heard strange tales by the camp-fire light.
We have lain on the starlit sands, untented,
While low-hung planets rose white and fair,
And in moonlit gardens, silver and scented,
Oh, Life, my Lover, how sweet you were !
Forbidden and barbarous rites were shown us,
In rock-hewn Temples and jungle caves,
And the smoke-wreathed home of the dead has known us,
The burning-ghat by the Ganges waves
Ah, the long, lone ride through the starlit hours,
The long, lone watch on the starlit sea,
And the flame and flush of the morning flowers
When Life, my Lover, was kind to me !
Betimes we were out on the Sea, together;
The vessel raced down the great green slope
Of mountainous waves, in desperate weather ;
The hearts of men were adrift from hope.
As over the deck, in exultant fashion,
The violent water crashed and fell,
I knew, through the joy of your reckless passion,
Agonised fear of the last farewell.
But I follow you always, unresisting,
To lowest depth ; to uttermost brink,
From a thirst like mine there is no desisting
Though given poison for wine to drink.
You may do your utmost, you will not shake me,
Your faith may falter ; my faith is true.
Oh, Life, you may shatter and rend and break me,
All Pain is Pleasure, that springs from you !
In the height and heat of your wildest passion,
You had your uttermost will of me,
And when have I asked for the least compassion ?
A lover loved is a lover free !
Though, with never a word of farewell spoken
In lonely wilds of some Desert place,
You have flung me from you, adrift and broken,
To wait the child of your last embrace.
And never my faith nor my fervour faltered,
Until you turned to my lips again,
When, my eager longing for you unaltered
Your first kiss cancelled my months of pain.
Ah, Life, you may torture my soul, betray me,
The right is yours, as Lover and Lord.
And when in the climax of all, you slay me,
My lips in dying will seek your sword.
A few random poems:
- A View of the Han River by Wang Wei
- An Excelente Balade of Charitie: As Wroten bie the Gode Pri by Thomas Chatterton
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Добрый совет
- Epigram Engraved on the Collar of a Dog Which I Gave to His Royal Highness poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
- English Poetry. Charles Lockhart. Epistle to a Friend, with a Copy of Burns’s Letters. Чарльз Локкарт. Послание другу при возвращении ему томиков стихов Бернса
- Fight to a Finish by Siegfried Sassoon
- Василий Курочкин – Двуглавый орел
- Алексей Жемчужников – Столковались
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Пещеры Кизиль-коба
- Limbo by Seamus Heaney
- Aquarium epoch by Vladimir Marku
- J–K. Huysmans poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Autumn poem – Ysabelle Moriarty poems | Poetry Monster
- The Witching Hour by Norma Martiri
- In Uncertainty To A Lady
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 Высоцкий – Я всё чаще думаю о судьях
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я верю в нашу общую звезду
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я уверен, как ни разу в жизни
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я стою, стою спиною к строю
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я сказал врачу: “Я за все плачу!”
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я любил и женщин и проказы
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я был слесарь шестого разряда
- Владимир Высоцкий – Хрущёву
- Владимир Высоцкий – Холодно, метёт кругом
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вы в огне да и в море вовеки не сыщете брода
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вы были у Беллы
- Владимир Высоцкий – Всё с себя снимаю, слишком душно
- Владимир Высоцкий – Всё меньше вас, участники войны
- Владимир Высоцкий – Всё было не так, как хотелось вначале
- Владимир Высоцкий – Все ушли на фронт
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вратарь (Льву Яшину)
- Владимир Высоцкий – Возле города Пекина
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вова испугался
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вот Вы докатились до сороковых
- Владимир Высоцкий – Вот раньше жизнь
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.