Stay in town - Julianus antecessor

Stay in town, little wight,
Safe at home:

To Name A Sea - Ranjit Hoskote

Honour the translator,
survivor of cadence:

The morning appears immeasurably beautiful - Wenceslaus II

The morning appears immeasurably beautiful,
the night must descend from her throne,
which she held in all her magnificence in Greece:
now the day shall ascend.

Let Peace Sweep through Our Minds - Indunil Madhusankha

For three long decades
the nation was beaten
in no small measure
at the eruption of the terror bomb

Song of Mist - Balys Sruoga

The smooth oar lifts no spray,
The soft breeze dies away,
There's joy in store today.

Root - Miklós Radnóti

Power flashes unseen through the root
That drinks rain, feeds on earth below;
And its dream is white as snow.

A Record on the Doorstep - Augustin Tin Ujević

These poems - it's not me,
even though I wrote them.
These moans, it's not me,
though I really sighed them.

The dust was here first - Vivian Tjijandjeua Ojo

The dust was here first
Mothers came to tend to the dust
and absorbed its clay shades for their skin.

Laura’s Sunday - Ndue Ukaj

In her city there is a ruined cathedral
in the midst of ruins
its choir is missing
and there is an “Ave Maria” song.
On the road edges, stones relieve pain
only the choir traces are together with dry
flower bouquets
There are many dogs, and trash.

Vondel's Lucifer (Act II, lines 493-538) - Joost van den Vondel

Chorus of Angels:
Strophe.
How glares the noble front of Heaven!
Why streams the holy light so red
Upon our face, overspread
With mournful mists from darkness driven?

Mass grave - Lia Cachim

They die by the thousands —
and the cars march on
the graves the shrines
in a sluggish rush
as if pretending
that funeral elegies might serve
for more than kindling
for the fire

Can I try to sing a song - Omar García Ramírez

Can I try to sing a song in the midst of our shipwreck?
Or will it be thrown into the storm of silence?
An image?
A voice?

Yo Yu - Luisa Igloria

"Have fish."
  —Chinese saying

Today, the streets flooded and ceilings leaked,
mercurial.  On TV, firemen waded through apartments

VI - Ryner Lai

Tenuously tethered leaves,
Feed the thirsty soil.

A sleepless night - Maksym Rylsky

It’s stifling, quiet and dark everywhere,
The darkness strangles me, an evil darkness,
The bright world is gone... Where are you, people,
Where have you disappeared? You’re gone, all gone...

Free from bondage - Bahlakoana Mothobi

They came with chains, with iron and lies,
Their greed reflected in hollow eyes.
The ocean roared, the ships stood tall,
Yet sorrow wailed above them all.

All the World - Langa Sarakikya

Several times a day
the same play
features in the recesses
of a collective mind

Prophecy - Jules Supervielle

One day the Earth will be   
just a blind space turning,   
night confused with day.   
Under the vast Andean sky   
there’ll be no more mountains,   
not a rock or ravine.

The Cooking Pot And The Sickle - Edasseri Govindan Nair

I.
Who in the last season had sown
The Aryan¹ seeds in this field with love?
When the hot sun of March burned
Rain - fire above, red embers below,

Dawn purples all the East with light - Ambrose of Milan (Augusta Treverorum)

Dawn purples all the east with light;
Day o'er the earth is gliding bright;
Morn's sparkling rays their course begin;
Farewell to darkness and to sin!

Lament VI - Jan Kochanowski

Dear little Slavic Sappho, we had thought,
Hearing thy songs so sweetly, deftly wrought,
That thou shouldst have an heritage one day
Beyond thy father’s lands: his lute to play.

Happy days will break through the pain - Fedir

Everyone says school's quite thrilling
You make the first steps on your own.
But I'm about to forget this feeling,
My best school years were stolen.

Written While Drunk in Lake-View Pavilion on the 27th Day of the Sixth Month - Su Shi

The inky clouds fly in, but do not hide the hills,
As random drops of white rain leap into the boats.

Insomnia - Farhan Ejat

I remember one day someone I’ve met
Told me a story hard to forget
Asked me how well do I sleep at night
And if it’s true that bed bugs bite?

My desire... - Nadezhda Zaharieva

My desire is to find a shelter
In some god forsaken wilderness,
Bathe in virgin dew-drops Eden's water,
Drink a scent of herbs – luxturiaters
And lie-down in cradle-greenery;

America is a Gun - Brian Bilston

England is a cup of tea.
France, a wheel of ripened brie.
Greece, a short, squat olive tree

America is a gun.