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:
- Of You by Philo Ikonya
- Alexander VI Dines with the Cardinal of Capua by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Владимир Маяковский – Дачный случай
- Flowers notebook
- Владимир Маяковский – Реклама Резинотрест
- To The Serpent
- Diary of a Church Mouse poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
- night_piece.html
- Venus and Adonis by William Shakespeare
- The Explanation by Rudyard Kipling
- Cut by Sylvia Plath
- Circus In Three Rings by Sylvia Plath
- Put Something In by Shel Silverstein
- Friday’s Child by W H Auden
- Apple-Blossoms by Will McKendree Carleton
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
- The Song poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- The Parabolic Ballad poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Self-Portrait poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- The AntiWorlds poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Russian-American Romance poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Rubber Souls poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Modern Nature poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- My Friend’s Light poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Her Story poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Fate poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Abuses and Awards poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- A Ballad (Thesis for a Doctor’s Degree) poem – Andrei Voznesensky poems
- Arrow through the bellybutton poem
- In shadows of night
- The Snake
- 永遠
- Forever
- 歐盟
- Storm poem – André Rostant poems
- Limbo Under the Westway poem – André Rostant poems
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.