Primus Priory - Jared Angira

My man is gone away to serve
                                        the Master
                                        his chief

A Grave in Samoa - John Macfarlane

     The wild birds strangely call,
And silent dawns and purple eves are here,
Where Southern stars upon his grave look down,
     Calm-eyed and wondrous clear!

Mother's love - Roberto Echavarren

Rock, echo, hard sand;
from the ravine runs
white-hot water: each grain
of mica in the sun, bud, shoot, stone,
sere mouth, collects dust

Icarus - Gabriele Tinti

I would like to fly away from here, be cured of this pointless disease,
burn under another light, a clear, scorching dawn.