Sonnet - Desbabbeaux

Great God, thy judgments are supremely right; 

Thy joy is ever to forgive and spare: 

But such my guilt is, if thy goodness e'er 

Me pardon'd, it would wrong thy justice quite. 

A Poem from the World of Cats - Muthaffar al-Nawab

A dark wind bellowed out destruction

as a sweet street kitty awaited nightfall,

exposing one thigh and covering the rest—

may God protect the kitty and us—with the tail.

Pilgrim Of Amity - Bam Livinus Tal

We've come a long way

From town to town, we hoop for jobs

Tough times came, we managed and stayed

When the storm was still, we met at a joint

Like in a jungle, we shared, rejoiced and cracked jokes

Elegy Written in the Hot Weather - John Scott of Amwell

Three hours from noon the passing shadow shows,

  The sultry breeze glides faintly o'er the plains,

The dazzling ether fierce and fiercer grows,

  And human nature scarce its rage sustains.

Online - Sviatoslav Vakarchuk

Night - dominoes

With the setting sun, life will start anew

Who is asleep lying in their bed?

Someone else, not you

 

Eclogue II: Idas: Astacus: Thyrsis - Calpurnius Siculus

The virgin Crocale for long was loved by young Astacus and young Idas— 

Idas who owned a wool-bearing flock and Astacus a garden. 

Comely were both; and well-matched in tuneful song. 

These, upon a day when oppressive summer scorched the earth, met by a cooling spring— 

as it chanced, beneath the same shady tree; 

and made ready to contend together in sweet singing and for a stake. 

It was agreed that Idas, if beaten, should forfeit seven fleeces 

and Astacus the produce of his garden for the year. 

Icelandic lullaby - Halldór Kiljan Laxness

I shall wake and be good

to my friends small,

while fear runs red

the blue peaks flush

and Harpa sings a song of spring

on the grey harp leaf.

 

The Shadow of His Wings - Gerhard Tersteegen

The evening comes, the sun is sunk and gone,

And all things lie in stillness and in rest;

And thou, my soul, for thee one rest alone

Remaineth ever, on the Father's breast.

In the street I met while walking - Sophus Niels Christen Claussen

In the street I met while walking

Death ... a sight that pleased me so,

auburn locks that told of summer

fair maid’s skin as white as snow.

‘Let me live’ I death requested

in my young heart’s pangs of woe!

In Response to a Question - Özge Lena

What am I doing? Really?

Do you want the boring answer

Or the naked truth?

Women of Antigua! - Veronica Evanson Bernard

When at times

I sit and wonder

of my days in dear Antigua,

Visions of women

Seem to rise

Like a flood

Before my eyes.

Extremely Grateful, Yet Disappointed - Benedicta Mordedzi

Extremely grateful, yet disappointed

to all who cared enough to stick with her

to listen, to advise, to support —

your presence has been a blessing.

Boy - Loic Ekinga

After Olivia Gatwood’s “Girl, after Ada Limón”

I will not be shamed for falling apart

And sinking into my mattress.

My City - Jean D’Amérique

                                for a city whose wound is mine

the streets

are nameless

because of traveling crime

a tower of  flames at its back, my city binges on

fresh canons, sings of a life that sags on the page,

it watches humans fall as if it’s watching cascades

of piss

Refuge - Sarah Klassen

What song do we sing when the journey ends

and we find ourselves in another country

with our exhausted children, our pitiful possessions,

Aku - Chairil Anwar

If my time has come

I don’t want anyone to comfort me

Not even you

 

The Return - Edith Tiempo

It the dead years could shake their skinny and run

As once he had circled this house in thirty counts,

He would enter this door and these old friends would not shun

Him and his tales, tales that would bear more than the spare

Testimony of his willed wit and his grey hairs.

Landscape No. 2 - Lin Heng-t’ai

Lines of trees to break the wind

And beyond them other

Fly On O Crane! - Maung Swan Yi

Out from Hiroshima’s flames

thou hast winged, O Crane!

To Tigerland - Wang Gungwu

The lallangs leer at the breed of mosquitoes,

The parangs rust in their sheaths.

There the wood-smoke has turned to dust,

There the children make their wreaths.

Back - Hour Luy

I can’t cry but my heart is bleeding

Laughter sticks in my throat

They have said I must go home

I don’t want to.

A Man Is Dead - Somphavan Inthavon

Put on your most lovely white costume

And smile broadly

It is only a simple burial

The celebration of one who has departed.

Addicted - Angkarn Kalyanapong

Scoop up the sea, pour it in a bowl,

and dine on it and rice,

reach out, gather some stars,

and mix them with salt to eat.

Look at crabs and oysters dancing with joy

and playing nostalgic songs,

or chameleons and galley worms flying

to eat the sun and moon!

The Stone Dog - Le Thanh-tong

With a heavy paw he guards the frontier,

Squatting alone in the middle of the pass,

Purple - Chloe Ling

Wake before the dawn

and you will witness the

World's slowest embrace

Coordinating System - Daniela Andonovska-Trajkovska

all people know what the coordinates that I live in are

and what full stops my initials are leaning on

True Freedom - Agron Tufa

True freedom is a dark vial,

full of intertwined genies, pent up

from a cruel Piston

Blessed be the butterfly - Betsimar Sepúlveda

Blessed be the butterfly

wise enough to separate the flames from the fire

and to hurl itself, delirious, into the beauty of its center.

Ego Sum - Gaspar Octavio Hernández

Neither mother of Pearl’s complexion, nor locks of gold

Shall you see, like finery, adorning my frame;

neither sapphire’s light, celestial and pure,

trapped and shining, in the pit of my eyes

Fray - Clementina Suárez

I am a poet,

an army of poets.

Learner - Mahadai Das

I am the great learner.

I devour the apple but before that,

I halve, then quarter

and eighth it.