A prayer in prospect of judgment - Ephrem the Syrian

Before my offences
Are brought against me
At the tribunal of justice;
And cause me to stand
In the presence of the Judge
With confusion of face:—

Have mercy on me, oh Lord, for Thou
art abundant in mercy!

A Dog in the Quarry - Miroslav Holub

The day was so bright
that even birdcages flew open.
The breasts of lawns
heaved with joy
and the cars on the highway
sang the great song of asphalt.

Your scent is in the air - Rauf Tagiyev

Beside me, a cup of tea has gone cold,
My days and months keep passing as I stare at the roads.
I forgot the seasons,
I can’t even tell if it’s winter or summer anymore.
Where are you, my love?
My voice, my cry… it can’t reach you.

The Martyr - Nick Joaquin

Being in love means never having to say you’re sorry
After all, at some point in your life
That love was the most important thing to you,
That love might be the one that you hoped would last forever,
That love made you believe that destiny does exist,
And that love made you question,
Why you were afraid to fall in love in the first place.

A painful memory - Haris Chand Adhikari

She is a painful memory
Collaged in my mental picture,
Deep somewhere she comes to caress me
And feeds me from her life

Reverse Profile - Vladimir Martinovski

An
Error has
Sneaked by
In
The Book
Of Marriage:
The registry number
Of the bride
Lacks a digit

Surprised by day not breaking - Jean Portante

Surprised by day not breaking any more the moon
and the sun like two old underground thieves
relit the torch and set off. I'm sure that
anyone who'd seen their feeble gleam from a
distance would have felt sorry for them.

Ocean, Waves, and Wind: A Song on the Nature of Mind - Tsangnyön Heruka

Namo guru!
The ocean of mind is stirred by the wind of grasping at subject and object.
The childish take the waves of appearance as something to reject.
For the wise, the waves are none other than the water itself.

You - Bruce Levitan

If I had one wish
I would not need it
because I have you;

Sunset tears - John Kasaipwalova

The dancing wavetops poke their tongues
Laughing to cry their sadness
They swell to catch the painted sky
They bend to summon the blackness of the ocean depths
Always dancing, turning crisping fall and slide