Why should we court the storms that rave and rend,
Safe at our household hearth?
Why, starved and naked, without home or friend,
Unknowing whence we came or where we wend,
Follow from no beginning to no end
An uncrowned martyr’s path?
Is it worth while to waste our all in vain?
To seek, and not to know?
To strive for something we can never gain,
To labour blindly for a wage of pain,
And crack our heartstrings with the stress and strain,
And reap no field we sow?
What does it matter whether love or hate,
Or praise or blame, be theirs
Who pass like shadows, with no time to wait
For understanding of the ways of fate,
Which makes the hopeless desert blossom late,
And kills good wheat with tares?
Why do we choose to suffer, when we might
Lie down to sleep and dream?
Is praise for men who try to do the right?
Is blame for him who shirks the deadly fight?
And whose the friendship that is heart’s delight?
And whose the love supreme?
Wide do we set our sanctuary door
That fairest guest to greet,
And find too late, when we have shown our store,
The sacred places rudely trampled o’er,
Bereaved, profaned, and soiled for evermore
With tread of vulgar feet.
And nothing left to solace us but this,
At such a frightful cost-
A taste, a glimpse, the memory of a kiss;
Only a sense of what diviner bliss,
That might have been, we have contrived to miss;
Only what love has lost.
And brother-bond-the loyal comradeship
That comes to every call-
What worth the smiling eye, the warm hand-grip,
The benediction of the kindly lip?
Sickness, old age or poverty can strip
The value from them all.
And faith, embalmed in immemorial creed-
Once our supreme support,
Our staff and beacon to uphold and lead-
A light extinguished and a broken reed!
And where, O where, in bitter time of need,
Shall substitute be sought?
Wherefore this anguish of desire to see
That which concerns us not-
The evolution of the life to be,
The distant course, the final destiny
Of worlds and men-the ages wherein we
Shall have no part or lot?
Why not shut eyes of spirit and of brain
That can torment us thus?
Why not take something to assuage the pain,
And shut the doors and go to sleep again?
The Search may be successful or in vain,
What matters it to us?
Is it worth while, when house and home are here,
And we can dwell at ease,
To go forth, lonely, and in mortal fear,
To travel roads that lead not anywhere,
As bare of lamp or signpost, far or near,
And full of thorns, as these?
To leave the Good whereof we are possest,
To seek, in senseless grief,
For some divine but ever unknown Best,
And see no goal and find no place of rest-
Is it worth while, on such a fruitless quest
To waste a life so brief?
We must not ask-we must not ask again.
We have to wait and see.
Press on, poor soul, along the path of pain
That is the one thing absolutely plain.
The last assessment of the loss and gain
Is not a task for thee.
A few random poems:
- Look You, I’ll Go Pray by Vachel Lindsay
- libation.html
- The Valley Of Dry Bones poem – Ambrose Bierce poems | Poems and Poetry
- I’m My Own Grandpa by Shel Silverstein
- Владимир Маяковский – Слушай, шахтер!.. (РОСТА №843)
- Robert Burns: Inscription: Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems, presented to the Lady whom, in so many fictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung under the name of-“Chloris.”
- Такахама Кёси – Как ярко сияет
- A Rythm Upon Our Trusts by Michael McGovern
- Вероника Тушнова – Тень
- The Houses by Rudyard Kipling
- A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID by Robert Herrick
- Владимир Степанов – Следом за летом осень
- A Meeting With Despair by Thomas Hardy
- Tame Cat poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Ярослав Смеляков – В защиту домино
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
- Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Спортивный марш
- Василий Лебедев-Кумач – Солнце садится
- Василий Тредиаковский – Видеть все женские лица
- Василий Тредиаковский – В сем озере бедные любовники
- Василий Тредиаковский – В белости ее румяной
- Василий Тредиаковский – Песенка любовна
- Василий Тредиаковский – Описание грозы, бывшей в Гааге
- Василий Тредиаковский – О коль мне тамо сладка веселия было
- Василий Тредиаковский – Ну, так уже я не стал быть вашим отныне
- Василий Тредиаковский – Невозможно быть довольным
- Василий Тредиаковский – Мое сердце все было в страсти
- Василий Тредиаковский – Леший и мужик
- Василий Тредиаковский – К почтению, льзя объявить любовь
- Василий Тредиаковский – Дворы там весьма суть уединенны
- Василий Тредиаковский – Будь жестока, будь упорна
- Василий Жуковский – Деревенский сторож в полночь
- Василий Жуковский – Цветок
- Василий Жуковский – Человек
- Василий Жуковский – Был у меня товарищ
- Василий Жуковский – Бородинская годовщина
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
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.