St. Simeon Stylites - Enrico Nencione

On the white head of the old man divine
The sun in torrents falls—the August sun—
In the fields the yellow grasses smoke with heat:
He from his place upon the pillar’s height
A living statute stands, an iron form,
Yet animated by the breath of God.

It is the coming of the night - Christopher Brennan

It is the coming of the night:
they gather to their hearths; they light
the scanty flame, and draw the chair
closer, and warmth enchants their care.

Vesper Hymn for All Saints - Rabanus Maurus

O soothe thy servants' woes, and bring
Our souls to thee, most clement King;
We seek before thy mercy seat
The Virgin's intercession sweet.

One who feels others' grief - Narsinh Mehta

One who feels others' grief as his own,
Who obliges others in distress
Without being swollen with pride,
He alone can be called a Vaishnava!

The Unity of God - Panatattu

Into the bosom of the one great sea
Flow streams that come from hills on every side.
Their names are various as their springs.
And thus in every land do men bow down
To one great God, though known by many names.
This mighty Being we would worship now.

The Moon - Elena Văcărescu

A green, green tree in my courtyard stands.
The sunshine loves it, the breezes rock it;
But when snow hath fallen, the tree forgetteth
That April once was here.

Heart, my Heart - Heinrich Heine

Heart, my heart, no longer mourn,
Wail no more the weary days,
Spring will freshen all the ways
By the winter made forlorn.

Prologue, addressed to Tullus - Sextus Propertius

Cynthia was the first. She caught me with her eyes, a fool
who had never before been touched by desires.
I really hung my head in shame
when Love pressed down on it with his feet.
He taught me to hate chaste girls!
He was cruel when he told me to live without plan.
It's already been a whole year that the frenzy hasn't stopped.
Even now, the gods are against me.

Kiss III - Joannes Secundus

“One Kiss, enchanting Maid!" (I cry'd;)—
One little Kiss! and then adieu!
Your lips, with luscious crimson dyed,
To mine with trembling rapture flew:

Mnasidika's breasts - Pierre Louÿs

Carefully, with one hand, she opened her tunic and tendered me her breasts, warm and sweet, just as one offers the goddess a pair of living turtle-doves.