This Summer Was Different - Rumi Ullidov

This summer was different
For there were no sunny days
Nor starry nights
Van Gogh would cough and be sick

Serenata - Miloš Crnjanski

Hear, the moon weeps, young and yellow.
Listen to me, darling, the last time.
I will die, so when you want me,
do not shout my name on the sunset.

Stay in town - Julianus antecessor

Stay in town, little wight,
Safe at home:

To Name A Sea - Ranjit Hoskote

Honour the translator,
survivor of cadence:

The morning appears immeasurably beautiful - Wenceslaus II

The morning appears immeasurably beautiful,
the night must descend from her throne,
which she held in all her magnificence in Greece:
now the day shall ascend.

Let Peace Sweep through Our Minds - Indunil Madhusankha

For three long decades
the nation was beaten
in no small measure
at the eruption of the terror bomb

Song of Mist - Balys Sruoga

The smooth oar lifts no spray,
The soft breeze dies away,
There's joy in store today.

Root - Miklós Radnóti

Power flashes unseen through the root
That drinks rain, feeds on earth below;
And its dream is white as snow.

A Record on the Doorstep - Augustin Tin Ujević

These poems - it's not me,
even though I wrote them.
These moans, it's not me,
though I really sighed them.

The dust was here first - Vivian Tjijandjeua Ojo

The dust was here first
Mothers came to tend to the dust
and absorbed its clay shades for their skin.