France - Toru Dutt

Not dead,—oh no,—she cannot die!
Only a swoon, from loss of blood!
Levite England passes her by,
Help, Samaritan! None is nigh;
Who shall staunch me this sanguine flood?

The Story of the Royal Huntress - T. Ramakrishna

It was a land of plenty and of wealth;
There God's indulgent hand made for a race
Supremely blest a paradise on earth.
A land of virtue, truth, and charity,
Where nature's choicest treasures man enjoyed
With little toil, where youth respected age,
Where each his neighbour's wife his sister deemed,
Where side by side the tiger and the lamb
The water drank, and sported oft in mirth.
A land where each man deemed him highly blest
When he relieved the miseries of the poor,
When to his roof the wearied traveller came
To share his proffered bounty with good cheer.
Such was the far-famed land of Panchala.

Warrior's Longing - Alfred Lichtenstein

I would like to lie in my bed
In a white shirt,

A Ballad Of Sark - Algernon Charles Swinburne

High beyond the granite portal arched across
Like the gateway of some godlike giant’s hold
Sweep and swell the billowy breasts of moor and moss
East and westward, and the dell their slopes enfold
Basks in purple, glows in green, exults in gold
Glens that know the dove and fells that hear the lark
Fill with joy the rapturous island, as an ark
Full of spicery wrought from herb and flower and tree.

House of the poor - Mzi Mahola

When I was a little boy
I never questioned why
A solitary path
Led from a poor man’s hut.

Deluge - Sándor Kányádi

The broken wings of lightning bolts are
lashing my window.
The deluge is knocking.
I'm listening.

I saw my country’s walls - Francisco de Quevedo

I saw my country’s walls.
If at one time
they were strong,
now they have
collapsed, exhausted
by the course
of the age.

A plain soing of the Mexicans - Nahuatl indian (anonymous)

I alone will clothe thee with flowers, mine alone is the song which casts down our grief before God in thy house.

Vondel's Lucifer (Act I, lines 27-49) - Joost van den Vondel

Apollion:
I have, Lord Belzebub,
The low terrene observed with keenest eye.
And now I offer thee the fruits grown there
So far below these heights, 'neath other skies

Moorish Ballad - José Zorilla

And there the Sultan stood,
And murmurs heard,
While watching jealously.

The Desert of Atacama V - Raúl Zurita

           Speak of the whistle of Atacama
           the wind erases like snow
           the colour of that plain

Passer-By These Are Words - Yves Bonnefoy

 Passer-by, these are words.
 But instead of reading
 I want you to listen: to this frail
 Voice like that of letters eaten by grass.

Eastern River - Peter Huchel

Do not look for the stones
in water above the mud,
the boat is gone.

Milestone - Bruce Levitan

So the time has come at last
In years and months, and days and hours:

Easter - Edmund Spenser

Most glorious Lord of Lyfe! that, on this day,
Didst make Thy triumph over death and sin;

Theme (from Bell Songs) - Carl Spitteler

Bell with tongue of silver tone,
I would make thy secret known -
Cooped with screech-owl, flittermouse,

Good Friday - Edwin Morgan

Three o’clock. The bus lurches
round into the sun. ‘D’s this go –‘
he flops beside me – 'right along Bath Street?

Found - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I wandered lonely
Beneath the trees,
And sought for nothing,
But strolled at ease.

When Philosophies Sleep - Edasseri Govindan Nair

"Everything is fate"
That was father's faith;
He had nothing to do but wait.