The Daft-Days - Robert Fergusson

Now mirk December’s dowie face
Glowrs owr the rigs wi sour grimace,
While, thro’ his minimum of space,
              The bleer-ey’d sun,
Wi blinkin light and stealing pace,
              His race doth run.

The way is hard - Lina Sandell

The way is hard, narrow the gate.
But still it stands ajar,
So enter now, before too late,
There's room, whoe'er you are.

Winter Noon - Umberto Saba

At that moment when I was still happy
(God forgive that vast and terrible
word) what almost changed my joy

Silence - Giuseppe Ungaretti

I know a city
that each day fills with sun
and all is enraptured at that instant

Autumn - Adam Zagajewski

Autumn is always too early.
The peonies are still blooming, bees
are still working out ideal states,
and the cold bayonets of autumn
suddenly glint in the fields and the wind
rages.

Lamb of God - Nikolaus Decius

Lamb of God, innocent
Slaughtered upon the Tree,

XXII - Nahuatl indian (anonymous)

Tico, tico, ticoti, tico, tico, ticoti

In the place of tears I the singer watch my flowers; they are in my hand; they intoxicate my soul and my song, as I walk alone with them, with my sad soul among them.

I will walk through the rye - Elmer Diktonius

I will walk through the rye
that sways in the wind
with lead-heavy ears

Your Way - Our Way - The Truth - Zelda Quakawoot

Your way
Tradition is replaced by authority
Respect is replaced by greed
What is happening to this nation,
Is the planting of an evil seed.

Self-Portrait: Moon and Mind - Tina Escaja

I hold the cerebral cortex.
Electrical sequences naming me
generate my
presence,

Patong - Abhay K

A promenade of rainbows
ensconced by emerald hills
sand silver white
fine as flour
sirens emerging from the Andaman Sea
as Botticelli's Venus.

The servant - Mimi Khalvati

Ma’mad, hurry, water the rose.
Blessed is the English one that grows
                      out in the rain.

Epistle - Marguerite de Navarre

If God gave me the Christ as lord.
Must I another wait upon?
If bread of life is my reward,
Must I the bread of death feed on?

Stop The Violence - Anonymous

Drugs all over under the ground.
Guns, people crying, putting each other down.

Common Night - Merdan Ehet'éli

This is a night made from words.
This is a night poured into our spines like pig iron.
This is a night that puts us up in slippers and in our bedrooms inside books.
This is a night that makes our noses shed hellfruit leaves.

Poems from The Tale of Genji (chapters 1 and 2) - Murasaki Shikibu

“We vowed that we would go together
down the road we all must go. You must not leave me behind.”
“I leave you, to go the road we all must go.
The road I would choose, if only I could, is the other.”

Woman’s Love and Life: I - Adalbert von Chamisso

Aa, since I have seen him,
I believe I’m blind.

The Wreck of the "Julie Plante" (A Legend of Lac St. Pierre) - William Henry Drummond

On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre,
    De win' she blow, blow, blow,
An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante"
    Got scar't an' run below—
For de win' she blow lak hurricane,
    Bimeby she blow some more,
An' de scow bus' up on Lac St. Pierre
    Wan arpent from de shore.

A Love Song from the North - Sarojini Naidu

Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha,
Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha,
Dreams of delight that are gone,
When swift to my side came the feet of my lover
With stars of the dusk and the dawn?

Gone with the wind - Marguerite de Navarre

If men offend you in some wise,
Bear the affront light-heartedly;
And, if with calumny and lies,
Let not our thoughts unceasing be.
     Much empty blathering
Prevails; and so, say what they may:
Gone with the wind are such as they.

Change - Raymond Knister

I shall not wonder more, then,
But I shall know.

Another Waking - Carl Spitteler

From the nightmare world of dream
I awakened with a scream.

A song about a friend - Vladimir Vysotsky

If your friend just became a man,
Not a friend, not a foe, - just so,
If you really can't tell from the start,
If he's strong in his heart, -
To the peaks take this man - don't fret!

The Crabs - Brian Vrepont

The crabs are lunching;
An hour I’ve watched, and still they eat,
Pincering microcosms from the scaly rocks,
Time to split-second mouth shutterings
Link Chinamen with chop-sticks;
No disrespect, but Asian they look,
And I on an overleaning rock am humbled.

The lost one - Meng Haoran

The red gleam o'er the mountains
    Goes wavering from sight,
And the quiet moon enhances
    The loveliness of night.

After Trying Many Years - Michelangelo Buonarroti

After trying many years, and then
near death, the able man may know
an image living in the alpine stone.

The Beginning - Mark O'Connor

God himself
having that day planted a garden
walked through it at evening and knew
that Eden was not nearly complex enough.