Girl by Ezra Pound


The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast-
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child - so high - you are,
And all this is folly to the world








If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine




Five Poems by Ko Un
شاعر كوري
Two beggars
sharing a meal of the food they've been given

The new moon shines intensely

*

In a poor family's yard
the moon's so bright it could beat out rice-cakes

*

Get yourself a friend
come to know a foe
Get yourself a foe
come to know a friend

What kind of game is this?

*

A thousand drops
hanging from a dead branch

The rain did not fall for nothing

*

Without a sound

resin buried underground is turning into amber
while above the first snow is falling



من الشعر الاندونيسي

How Much More Blood? by Sukasah Syahdan


How much more blood
must the people suffer
before they come to a halt
with this horror of power?

How many more lives
do we have to proffer
'till cloyed they are forever
with terror manufacture?