The Window Overlooking The Harbour

A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)

Sad is the Evening: all the level sand

Lies left and lonely, while the restless sea,

Tired of the green caresses of the land,

Withdraws into its own infinity.

But still more sad this white and chilly Dawn

Filling the vacant spaces of the sky,

While little winds blow here and there forlorn

And all the stars, weary of shining, die.

And more than desolate, to wake, to rise,

Leaving the couch, where softly sleeping still,

What through the past night made my heaven, lies;

And looking out across the window sill

See, from the upper window’s vantage ground,

Mankind slip into harness once again,

And wearily resume his daily round

Of love and labour, toil and strife and pain.

How the sad thoughts slip back across the night:

The whole thing seems so aimless and so vain.

What use the raptures, passion and delight,

Burnt out; as though they could not wake again.

The worn-out nerves and weary brain repeat

The question: Whither all these passions tend;–

This curious thirst, so painful and so sweet,

So fierce, so very short-lived, to what end?

Even, if seeking for ourselves, the Race,

The only immortality we know,–

Even if from the flower of our embrace

Some spark should kindle, or some fruit should grow,

What were the use? the gain, to us or it,

That we should cause another You or Me,–

Another life, from our light passion lit,

To suffer like ourselves awhile and die.

What aim, what end indeed? Our being runs

In a closed circle. All we know or see

Tends to assure us that a thousand Suns,

Teeming perchance with life, have ceased to be.

Ah, the grey Dawn seems more than desolate,

And the past night of passion worse than waste,

Love but a useless flower, that soon or late,

Turns to a fruit with bitter aftertaste.

Youth, even Youth, seems futile and forlorn

While the new day grows slowly white above.

Pale and reproachful comes the chilly Dawn

After the fervour of a night of love.

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Poems in English 

• Ольга Берггольц – Я тайно и горько ревную by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Из блокнота сорок первого года by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Мы предчувствовали полыханье by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Я иду по местам боев by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Я говорю by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Второй разговор с соседкой by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Встреча by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Возвращение by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Вот я выбирала для разлуки by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Воспоминание (И вот в лицо пахнуло земляникой) by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – В ложе Цимлянского моря by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – В доме Павлова by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Украина by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Твоя молодость by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Триптих 1949 года by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Тост by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Таков мой подарок тебе за измену by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Так еще ни разу не забыла by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Стихи о ленинградских большевика by Ольга Берггольц
• Ольга Берггольц – Старая гвардия by Ольга Берггольц

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