Love, let me thank you for this!
Now we have drifted apart,
Wandered away from the sea,–
For the fresh touch of your kiss,
For the young warmth of your heart,
For your youth given to me.
Thanks: for the curls of your hair,
Softer than silk to the hand,
For the clear gaze of your eyes.
For yourself: delicate, fair,
Seen as you lay on the sand,
Under the violet skies.
Thanks: for the words that you said,–
Secretly, tenderly sweet,
All through the tropical day,
Till, when the sunset was red,
I, who lay still at your feet,
Felt my life ebbing away,
Weary and worn with desire,
Only yourself could console.
Love let me thank you for this!
For that fierce fervour and fire
Burnt through my lips to my soul
From the white heat of your kiss!
You were the essence of Spring,
Wayward and bright as a flame:
Though we have drifted apart,
Still how the syllables sing
Mixed in your musical name,
Deep in the well of my heart!
Once in the lingering light,
Thrown from the west on the Sea,
Laid you your garments aside,
Slender and goldenly bright,
Glimmered your beauty, set free,
Bright as a pearl in the tide.
Once, ere the thrill of the dawn
Silvered the edge of the sea,
I, who lay watching you rest,–
Pale in the chill of the morn
Found you still dreaming of me
Stilled by love’s fancies possessed.
Fallen on sorrowful days,
Love, let me thank you for this,
You were so happy with me!
Wrapped in Youth’s roseate haze,
Wanting no more than my kiss
By the blue edge of the sea!
Ah, for those nights on the sand
Under the palms by the sea,
For the strange dream of those days
Spent in the passionate land,
For your youth given to me,
I am your debtor always!
A few random poems:
- Ольга Берггольц – Мне не поведать о моей утрате
- Intruder
- George and Sarah Green by William Wordsworth
- Юлия Друнина – Бежала от морозов, вот беда
- Sonnet Iii
- Как живёшь ветеран милиции
- The Daughter Goes To Camp by Sharon Olds
- Come, come thou bleak December wind (fragment) by Samuel Coleridge
- Fragment From Aeschylus
- shivering wind by Steve Troyanovich
- A Rainy Night poem – André Rostant poems
- Innermost One by Rabindranath Tagore
- Come Into the Garde, Maud poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Boot And Saddle by Robert Browning
- For The Anniversary Of My Death by W. S. Merwin
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
- Before you knew you owned it poem – Alice Walker
- Because We Never Practiced With The Escape Chamber poem – Alice Fulton
- Ballad Of The Skeletons poem – Allen Ginsberg
- About Face poem – Alice Fulton
- A winning lot
- 30th Birthday poem – Alice Notley
- Why?
- Where Are You?
- Tell Me
- Teacher
- Sleep
- Intruder
- Inside/Outside The Window
- Why Feed The Early Signs Of Boredom? poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Upon The Hills Of Georgia poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Under The Blue Skies… poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Under A Portrait Of Jukowsky poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Under A Portrait Of Jukowsky poem – Alexander Pushkin
- To My Friends poem – Alexander Pushkin
- To Gnedich poem – Alexander Pushkin
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.