The Song of the Traveler - Jose Rizal

Like to a leaf that is fallen and withered,
Tossed by the tempest from pole unto pole;
Thus roams the pilgrim abroad without purpose,
Roams without love, without country or soul.

How a Peasant Won Paradise by Wit - Doun de Laverne

Recorded in a book we find
Adventure of surprising kind:
How that a villain basely born
Died on a certain Friday morn,
And by some chance it came to pass,
Nor angel nigh nor devil was.

Sonnet 158 - Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

Madam, Lady Rose, lovely paradigm
of all blossoms Sun and Moon gaze upon:
why linger in your cradle, if you’re grown,
why fear human ravage, if you’re divine?

At dead of night - Friedrich Rückert

             At dead of night
             Sleep took her flight: 
I gazed abroad, no star of all the crowds 
That people heaven, was smiling through the clouds 
             To cheer my sight 
             That dreary night.

Sleepiness - Douha Ahmed

Sleepiness hangs heavy
Like a fishhook from my mouth
The line is taut, like the rope on the wall

Merry Ancestors - Teweiariki Teaero

Years back
On a night so black
Natiu ran to me
Seeking refuge
In my arms

Apolitical Intellectuals - Otto René Castillo

I

One day,
the apolitical intellectuals
of my country
will be interrogated
by the simplest
of our people.

Nostalgia - Owen Habel Lwanda

At the barber shop, the barber asks where I come from.
I say “Kenya.”
He nods politely and drapes a shawl around my shoulders.
I want him to ask another question. Which part of Kenya? What was it like? Why did you leave?

The wind returns; my little courtyard is green - Li Yu

The wind returns; my little courtyard is green and overgrown,
The willows seem to have grown again this spring.

Belfast Confetti - Ciarán Carson

Suddenly as the riot squad moved in, it was raining
     exclamation marks,
Nuts, bolts, nails, car-keys. A fount of broken type. And the
     explosion
Itself — an asterisk on the map. This hyphenated line, a burst of
     rapid fire …