Literature

What if we still carry shame on our forehead,
Marks of the whip, signs of bondage abhorrent;
What ...
- Ivan Vazov
Tonight
the moon
as though marinated.

A family
on the fourth floor
playing the g...
- Aleksandrs Caks
A shepherd shearing sheep one day
Declaimed most zealously
Upon the care was ta’en of sh...
- Ignacy Krasicki
That tree whose leaves are trembling
is yearning for something.

That tree so lovely to look at...
- Diego Hurtado de Mendoza
Triumphing over death from the start
Stilling time's unyielding wheel with love's art,
Eternal Bel...
- Vladimir Solovyov
Put out my eyes, and I can see you still,
Slam my ears to, and I can hear you yet;
And without any...
- Rainer Maria Rilke
The Grave said to the Rose,
"What of the dews of dawn,
Love's flower, what end is theirs?&q...
- Victor Hugo
What else could we do, for the doors were guarded,
What else could we do, for they had imprisoned u...
- Paul Eluard
I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sle...
- Langston Hughes
How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everythi...
- Hermann Hesse
How can I vanish
Before meeting someone
Like a water bubble
Ceaselessly flowing
On a stream of t...
- Lady Ise
In these red labyrinths of London
I find that I have chosen
the strangest of all callings,
save t...
- Jorge Luis Borges
The brooding ghosts of Australian night have gone from the bush and town;
My spirit revives in the...
- Henry Lawson
They say I pretend or lie
All I write. No such thing.
It simply is that I
Feel by imagining.
I d...
- Fernando Pessoa
The moon came into the forge
in her bustle of flowering nard.
The little boy stares at her, stares...
- Federico García Lorca
Slopes
of Mount Kugami—
in the mountain's shade
a hut beneath the trees—
how many years
it'...
- Ryokan Taigu
The older you get the stronger the wind gets - and it's always in your face....
- Pablo Picasso
Who says that all must vanish?
Who knows, perhaps the flight
of the bird you wound remains,
and p...
- Rainer Maria Rilke