The day of resurrection! - John of Da­mas­cus

The day of resurrection! 
Earth, tell it out abroad;
The Passover of gladness, 
the Passover of God.
From death to life eternal, 
from earth unto the sky,
Our Christ hath brought us over, 
with hymns of victory.

No, it was not the Jews who crucified - Jacobus Revius

No, it was not the Jews who crucified,
Nor who betrayed You in judgment place,

Good Friday - Maria Melendez Kelson

Jesus, I want my sins back.
My prattle, pride, and private prices?—?
climbing, clinching, clocking?—?

Ode - Amir ibn Kolthum

Ha girl! Up with the bowl! Give us our dawn draught
And do not spare the wines of al-Andarina,

Vondel's Lucifer (Act I, lines 173-191) - Joost van den Vondel

Belzebub:
Now picture me the bride, described from life.

Apollion:
That Nature's pencil needs, nor lesser hues
Than sunbeams. Perfect are both man and wife;

The Garden in Samothrace - Nonnus of Panopolis

Such was that shady garden. Near flowed forth
A fountain with two springs, whence all might draw
Perennial waters cool; in many a rill
Thence had the skilful gardener trained along
From plant to plant the winding wandering stream.

Bringing in the Wine - Li Bai

See how the Yellow River's water moves out of heaven.
Entering the ocean, never to return.
See how lovely locks in bright mirrors in high chambers,
Though silken-black at morning, have changed by night to snow...

Coming to the City Nearest You - Carol Penner

Jesus comes to Jerusalem, the city nearest you.
Jesus comes to the gate, to the synagogue,
to houses prepared for wedding parties,
to the pools where people wait to be healed,
to the temple where lambs are sold,
to gardens, beautiful in the moonlight.
He comes to the governor’s palace.

Last Dream - Giovanni Pascoli

Read the translator's notes
Out of a motionless infernal
shudder and clang of steel on steel
as wagons moved toward the eternal,
a sudden silence: I was healed.

Cam's Love - Hoàng Cầm

If I were young as in the days of old,
I'd take you in forever to live with me.
On each golden sundown that gently rolled,
You'd sing to my lute as in younger days.