The Mother's Song - Jean M. Auel

Out of the darkness, the chaos of time,
the whirlwind gave birth to the Mother sublime.
She woke to Herself knowing life had great worth,
the dark empty void grieved the Great Mother Earth.

Summer Memory - Marie Under

The door ajar, I stood at point of day,
Tiptoe for you and with awakened eyes.
The sun's gold slipper trod the gravelled way,

The Will - Saghir Ouled Ahmed

1
I was almost certain.
but now I’m of a cast-iron certainty that I’m going to die
a death of strange account
in the summer
or in the third half of August
to be precise

Temporarily Free - Rodney Roskruge

Thomas Sankara died for ideas
which still live on
today, tomorrow
red carpets for red berets
which can not stand upright
weighed down by tender bellies
made from Egypt, France and others

Micra - Mirza Rahchan Kayil

When you lie with me and love me,
You give me a second life of young gold;

Burn - Inger-Mari Aikio

in the morning I'm horny
but there are guests on the way

Africans - João Melo

Our paths are as old
as the ones worn by mankind.
We carved paths since the beginning, since we departed
our forests of origin and crossed the still-fertile Sahara,

Thee, O Christ, the Father’s splendor - Rabanus Maurus

Thee, O Christ, the Father’s splendor,
Life and virtue of the heart,
In the presence of the angels
Sing we now with tuneful art,
Meetly in alternate chorus,
Bearing our responsive part.

Who will listen to me - Toyo Mori

"Mama. where are you?
Papa. are you around?"
 

They are mine.
But am I theirs?
I'm confused.
 

When I cried. I cried alone,
No father listening to my pain,
No mother wiping my tears.
No brother's hand comforting me.

Lot's wife - Iryna Tsilyk

“There’s nothing in this country,” Lot’s wife says
impetuously and with disdain. “But it’s true. What can you get here?”
The soup’s boiling, someone else’s child is sleeping (for twenty zloty an hour),
while Lot drives back cars from Holland to sell.