Black Stone - Grace Mera Molisa

Black Stone
molten lava
solidified.

Mama - Paulette Cherici-Porello

Come my little rose,
You brighten up the house.
With your soft cheeks,
Soft and fragrant too.

Three pots and a pan - Batsirai E. Chigama

three pots and a pan
I want to return home
to my three pots and a pan

Blessed be the Lord who every day - Rabbi Simeon the Great

Blessed be the Lord who every day
sets on us salvation and redemption.
In His glorious name we delight at all times;
throu8gh His salvation we hold our head high.
A stronghold is He for the poor, for the needy a refuge.

Oh bird, do you fly? - Hadraawi

Oh bird, do you fly,
With the roaring winds, do you soar.
Do you not serve the people,
And do you not work harder for the people?

Two Haiku about insects and the sky - Masaoka Shiki

Locusts fly low
over rice paddies
in the dim sun ray

A Ship Comes In - Jónas Hallgrímsson

Can the bard descry a schooner
scudding landward, sails expanded?

Disastrous word - Verushcka Garises

It all starts as little as a drop of water
Just to turn into an ocean of crushing waves

Kyjov - Petr Bezruč

Ho, ye slender youths in your top-boots clad,
Ho, maidens in crimson array—
In Kyjov a joyful life ye have had,
In Kyjov 'twill ever be gay.

Sub umbra - Leo Bradley

Shades and shadows manifold
Grace our tropic land;
Silhouettes of seagull wings,
And palm shades on the sand;
Of countless coral windy cayes,
And dipping sail-boats grand.

God weeps - Shirley Erena Murray

God weeps
at love withheld,
at strength misused,
at children's innocence abused,
and till we change the way we love,
God weeps.

Promise - Meira Delmar

Some blue and flowered morning
we shall sweetly go, hand in hand

to listen to the stories the brook whispers
before the amazement of the bare stones...

All my bones - Michaela Lamdan

All my bones will say woman.
All my bones say woman.
Woman.
Why do you curve.
Why do you adapt.
Why do you embody pity.
Why.

San Juan of the Tourists - Marigloria Palma

I used to run around with my seven Sundays folded
under my arm and seven pigeons crowning my brow.
I would wander the streets free and caught
in the sun’s crosshairs. The city is a herd
of feelings jammed in the traffic

Put out on the fields - Antonio Machado

Put out on the fields
a physical laborer, a thinker, and a poet.

Land lost - Alessio Zanelli

Land lost. Land of me. Home to dreams.
The dreams have gone and she has turned into dreams.

Sunflower - Maarja Kangro

Ah, sunflower, withered flower,
offspring of the empire,
I was away a long time
and now you are drooping.

The Illuminated Manuscript - Kenneth Steven

They brought me from Ireland, still a boy
to begin their book.

I remember the day I left —
soft bread, a silvering of geese, the sound of my mother.

The Archer - Zahrad

It is a sharp, shining
cupid's point I aim
at your heart and draw

Loch Uisk, Isle Of Mull - John Campbell

Yon vale among the mountains,
So sheltered from the sea,
That lake which lies so lonely,
Shall tell their tale to thee.

Fable of Hawk and Nightingale - Hesiod

And now I will tell a fable for princes who themselves understand. 
Thus said the hawk to the nightingale with speckled neck, 
while he carried her high up among the clouds, gripped fast in his talons, 
and she, pierced by his crooked talons, cried pitifully. 

Eclipses - Ribka Sibhatu

There are people who starve to death,
others who sleep rough in the winter