Your Lips Will Tell Me - Hector Marcó

You don’t love me anymore, but I can’t blame you—

if you can do this, then I can hide my tears.

But you alone, you and my heart,

shall answer to God one day.

Poetry - Elisaveta Bagyrana

If my glance were not blest—

with you, inside. Open-eyed to penetrate the darkness,

and to make it fly and dance for me,

The world is for me a tough place - Nadezhda Zaharieva

The world is for me a tough place

But my tenor I choose how to alter:

The first approach of the sweet spring - Le Châtelain de Coucy

The first approach of the sweet spring

Returning here once more,—

I Keep Forgetting - Sima

Don’t know why I keep forgetting,

The time that you played me

The times you would pay me no attention

I keep forgetting all the pain that you cause

That its because of you that I am covered in scars.

After a Death - Tomas Tranströmer

Once there was a shock

that left behind a long, shimmering comet tail.

High above the Dark City - Jaime Saenz

One night on a rain-glistened road high above the dark city

with its now-distant tumult

she will certainly sigh

Miles Away - Homero Pumarol

A black trumpet flies

through the walls

of an empty building.

Let us Paint, World - AminTheRanter

What I am is a body of water,

I am fluid; always moving matter,

Eroding the earth I change the world

even if only the heart of a girl

Underground - Ito Hiromi

A bond was formed through marriage so in August

I go visit the graves for the Festival of the Dead. Going from the bullet train

To the Chugoku Highway, I move farther and farther away

Summer - Óndra Łysohorsky

A rocky slope, all overgrown with pine trees

Looks musing down the frothy Ostravitsa.

The summer ripens. Through the crowded branches

The midday sun drifts onto tallgrown grasses.

I will flee to my Helper - Yose ben Yose

                    א

¹ Let me flee to my Helper

I will find (Him) right in front of me

God is close to me

whenever I call out with (my) voice.

 

The Sky - Gareth Culshaw

When the cauliflowers have left the sky

leaving us with mushroom grey,

the birds sing songs we knew when young.

Work Shy - Gerard Fanning

When Don Givens made off with a treble clef

from the USSR’s hammer and sickle,

I was skiving off with the backroom boys,

though in truth it could hardly have been me

Somehow - Hsia Yü

She took a fan and painted a bird on one side

And a cage on the other and then she spun

The handle in her hand till we could see the bird

In the cage and then she put the fan away and smiling

Asked us what we thought it was she’d said

Hiyam - Zeina Hashem Beck

My grandmother, Hiyam, whose name

means love, had none, gave none. Locked

her refrigerator door so her children wouldn’t

make a mess in the kitchen, sat them down,

And I dreamt that I was a tree - Claribel Alegría

And I dreamt that I was a tree

and all my branches – leafy –

were belovéd of the birds

Shadow of The Light - Iliana Villanueva

The fountain illuminates pigeons and pigeons

pigeons about to say

volatile with sayings

white from their intense violence.

1932 - Jackson

reading the poems of women

born the same year as my mother

The Poet - Hatif Janabi

The poet is bewitched by light and darkness,

by a dagger that delights in misery

by wind and ruin and echo

by a ravenous temptation.

I draw the curtains of the afternoon - Luís Carlos Patraquim

I draw the curtains of the afternoon

because I desire your fullness

Cage - Teresa Colom

My father found a canary in the snow.

We put it into a cage.

One of its legs, instead of claws, had only a stump.

Dismissed by God’s Laugh - Don Carson

The powers of darkness descended in hate,

Maliciously, leeringly trying to bait

Their Victim, Creator, this self-emptied Man,

Committed to wrecking their Maker’s bold plan.

Ovaria - Tjawangwa Dema

i

When midnight comes

I find I have been away too long

Blowing my insides upside down

Still they say hope is on the way - Becki Friend

Yesterday I felt myself

begin to die,

shadows behind my eyes

stretched between

a deepening green

April - Bùi Chát

Bouts of rain drop on people’s heads

Wetness that changes lives

Lots of folks don’t know where to take refuge