A poem by Violet Nicolson, Lawrence Hope, Adela Florence Cory Nicolson (1865 – 1904)
Ah, Wind, I have always loved thee
Since those far off nights
When I lay beneath the vines
A prey to strange delights,
For among my tresses
Thy soft caresses
Were sweet as a lover’s to me.
Later thou grewest more wanton, or I more shy,
And after the bath I drew my garments close,
Fearing thy soft persuasion amongst my hair
When thou camest fresh with the scent of some ruffled rose.
Ah, Wind, thou hast lain with the Desert,
I know her savour well,
And the spices wherewith she scents her breasts–
She who has known such countless lovers
Yet rarely borne a city among her sands–
Thou comest as one from a night of love,
Thy breath is broken and hard,–
Bringing echoes of lonely things,
Vast and cruel, that the soft and golden sands
Buried beneath thin ripples so long ago.
Ah, Wind, thou hast given me lovely things,
The scent of a thousand flowers,
And the heavy perfume of pollen-laden fields,
Strange snatches of wild song from the heart of the dark Bazaar
That thrilled to my very core,
Till I threw the sheet aside and rose to follow,–
But whither, or what?
Also, Wind, thou broughtest the breath of the sea,
The sound of its myriad waves.
And in nights when I lay on the lonely sands
Stretching mine arms to thee,
Thou gavest me something–faint and vast and sweet,
Something ineffable, wistful, from far away,
Elsewhere–Beyond–
And thou wast kind to me in my times of love,
Cooling my lips
That my lover wore away,
While, wafting the scent from his divided hair,
Thou show’dst the stars between
Far away, and eclipsed by his burning eyes
Even the stars.
And now I almost foresee the place and the hour
When I shall open my dying lips to thee
And receive a last cool kiss.
Afterwards, Wind, since I have always loved thee,–
Whirl my dust to the scented heart of a moghra flower,
_His_ flower, but, ah, thou knowest,–
So often thy kisses have mingled with his and mine.
A few random poems:
- Николай Заболоцкий – Весна в лесу
- Fragment. Where’s The Poet? poem – John Keats poems
- Михаил Лермонтов – Я не люблю тебя
- Written On The Day That Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison poem – John Keats poems
- Robert Burns: Sonnet On Receiving A Favour: Addressed to Robert Graham, Esq. of Fintry.
- Федор Сологуб – Во внутреннем дворе отеля
- Astrophel and Stella: XLI by Sir Philip Sidney
- Vayu The Wind
- The River by Mark Olynyk
- The Rum Tum Tugger by T. S. Eliot
- A Poet’s Epitaph by William Wordsworth
- To Mrs. M. B. On Her Birthday poem – Alexander Pope
- Олег Бундур – Босиком
- Английская поэзия. Перси Биши Шелли. К Мэри Шелли. Percy Bysshe Shelley. To Mary Shelley
- English Poetry. Thomas Moore. From “Irish Melodies”. 44. She Is Far From the Land. Томас Мур.
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
- Asparagus – A Tanka Poem
- Missile – A Tanka Poem
- The Language of William Dunbar
- A Ballad of Our Lady (Ave Maria, gracia plena)
- A Quick Ode to Spam, a Poem about Spam
- The Amendis to the Telyouris and Sowtaris for the Turnament maid on thame
- Ode to the Bat , a Sonnet
- Love’s Wisdom poem – Alfred Austin
- Love’s Fitfulness poem – Alfred Austin
- Love Of Life poem – Alfred Austin
- Love Of Life poem – Alfred Austin
- Lost poem – Alfred Austin
- Lines Written On Visiting The Chateaux On The Loire poem – Alfred Austin
- Let The Weary World Go Round poem – Alfred Austin
- Leszko The Bastard poem – Alfred Austin
- Is Life Worth Living? poem – Alfred Austin
- Inflexible As Fate poem – Alfred Austin
- In The Month When Sings The Cuckoo poem – Alfred Austin
- In The Forum poem – Alfred Austin
- In Sutton Woods poem – Alfred Austin
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
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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.