A poem by Alistar Crowley (1875-1947)
The mighty sound of forests murmuring
In answer to the dread command;
The stars that shudder when their king
extends his hand,
His awful hand to bless, to curse; or moves
Toward the dimmest den
In the thick leaves, not known of loves
Or nymphs or men;
(Only the sylph’s frail gossamer may wave
Their quiet frondage yet,
Only her dewy tears may lave
The violet;)
The mighty answer of the shaken sky
To his supreme behest; the call
Of Ibex that behold on high
Night’s funeral,
And see the pale moon quiver and depart
Far beyond space, the sun ascend
And draw earth’s globe unto his heart
To make an end;
The shriek of startled birds; the sobs that tear
With sudden terror the sharp sea
That slept, and wove its golden hair
Most mournfully;
The rending of the earth at his command
Who wields the wrath of heaven, and is dumb;
Hell starts up; and before his hand
Is overcome.
I heard these voices, and beheld afar
These dread works wrought at his behest:
And on his forehead, lo! a star,
And on his breast.
And on his feet I knew the sandals were
More beautiful than flame, and white,
And on the glory of his hair
The crown of night.
And I beheld his robe, and on its hem
Were writ unlawful words to say,
Broidered like lilies, with a gem
More clear than day.
And round him shone so wonderful a light
As when on Galilee
Jesus once walked, and clove the night,
And calmed the sea.
I scarce could see his features for the fire
That dwelt about his brow,
Yet, for the whiteness of my own desire,
I see him now;
Because my footsteps follow his, and tread
The awful bounds of heaven, and make
The very graves yield up their dead,
And high thrones shake;
Because my eyes still steadily behold
And dazzle not, nor shun the night,
The foam; born lamp of beaten gold
And secret might;
Because my forehead bears the sacred Name,
And my lips bear the brand
Of Him whose heaven is one flame,
Whose holy hand
Gathers this earth, who built the vaults of space,
Moulded the stars, and fixed the iron sea,
Because His love lights through my face
And all of me.
Because my hand may fasten on the sword
Of my heart falter not, and smite
Those lampless limits most abhorred
Of iron night,
And pass beyond their horror to attack
Fresh foemen, light and truth to bring
Through their untrodden fields of black,
A victor king.
I know all must be well, all must be free;
I know God as I know a friend;
I conquer, and most silently
Await the end.
A few random poems:
- The City Revisited by Stephen Vincent Benet
- Владимир Маяковский – Стой, товарищ! Стонет Поволжье, о помощи моля (Главполитпросвет №344)
- An Anniversary
- Dyer Died In Silence poem – Andrea “Vocab” Sanderson poems | Poems and Poetry
- Recollection
- Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women by Anne Sexton
- Come home, sweetheart by Raj Arumugam
- Низами Гянджеви – День мой благословен
- The Spring by Thomas Carew
- Praying Hurriedly by Satish Verma
- Омар Хайям – О, не растите дерево печали
- Robert Burns: Address Of Beelzebub: To the Right Honourable the Earl of Breadalbane, President of the Right Honourable and Honourable the Highland Society, which met on the 23rd of May last at the Shakespeare, Covent Garden, to concert ways and means to frustrate the designs of five hundred Highlanders, who, as the Society were informed by Mr. M’Kenzie of Applecross, were so audacious as to attempt an escape from their lawful lords and masters whose property they were, by emigrating from the lands of Mr. Macdonald of Glengary to the wilds of Canada, in search of that fantastic thing-Liberty.
- Robert Burns: Versified Reply To An Invitation:
- Extract From The Conclusion Of A Poem Composed In Anticipation Of Leaving School by William Wordsworth
- Living with Cancer by Nin Andrews
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 Leaden Echo And The Golden Echo poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Lantern Out Of Doors poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Handsome Heart poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Half-way House poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Habit Of Perfection poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Furl of Fresh-Leaved Dogrose Down poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Child Is Father To The Man poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Candle Indoors poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Caged Skylark poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Bugler’s First Communion poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Blessed Virgin Compared To The Air We Breathe poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- The Alchemist in the City poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- That Nature Is A Heraclitean Fire And Of The Comfort Of The Resurrection poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Summa poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Strike, Churl poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- St. Winefred’s Well poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- St. Alphonsus Rodriguez poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Spring & Fall: To A Young Child poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Spring poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- Spelt From Sibyl’s Leaves poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins 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