Portrait of José Cemí - José Lezama Lima

No combat did he unleash, as panting

was the custom set between his breath

and the breeze or tempest.

A bar of chocolate - Georgi Savchev

has it become a habit

rather a regular sail

between two

Order of the day - Marcel de Bruin

Don't give up this land

We're not

all dead yet

To My Father - Yazid I

Must then my failings from the shaft

Of anger ne'er escape?

And dost thou storm because I've quaff'd

The water of the grape?

Praise be to Thee, O Christ, the Creator - Godescalcus

Praise be to Thee, O Christ, the Creator, the Redeemer, and the Saviour.

Of the heaven, the earth, the sea, angels, and men.

Whom alone we confess to be God and Man.

Fortune - Laura Chalar

I dreamed that you were reading my palm,

in the same cotton shirt I last saw you in

The dead poet friend - Callimachus

They told me, Heracleitus, they told me you were dead; 

They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. 

Looking for your own face - Farīd ud-Dīn ʿAṭṭār

Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral.

You can never see your own face,

only a reflection, not the face itself.

To the Memory of Sydney Dobell - John Stuart Blackie

And thou, too, gone! one more bright soul away

  To swell the mighty sleepers ’neath the sod;

The Lusiad (extract from Book I: Islands in the Indian Ocean) - Luís Vas de Camões

Whilst thus in heaven's bright palace fate was weigh'd

Right onward still the brave Armada strayed:

Right on they steer by Ethiopia's strand

And pastoral Madagascar's verdant land.

Before the balmy gales of cheerful spring,

With heav'n their friend, they spread the canvas wing,

The sky cerulean, and the breathing air,

The lasting promise of a calm declare.