Now mute indeed are tongue and heart: love shies away, joy stands apart. Neglected by its leaders and defeated, the country was subdued and it submitted.
JOSE RIZAL
Amid white plum blossoms night turns to dawn the time has come
YOSA BUSON
Last night, your lost memories crept into my heart  as spring arrives secretly into a barren garden  as a cool morning breeze blows slowly in a desert  as a sick person feels well, for no reason. 
FAIZ AHMED FAIZ
  A flower is always happy because it is beautiful. Bees sing their song of loneliness and weep. A waterfall is busy hurrying to the ocean. A poet is blown by the wind.
CHOGYAM TRUNGPA
A poem for Chinese mothers who were forced to slay daughters. “At present, the phenomena of butchering, drowning and leaving to die female infants have been very serious.” (The People's Daily, Peking, March 3rd, 1993)
SHIRLEY GEOK-LIN LIM
Your love has wrested me away from me, You're the one I need, you're the one I crave. Day and night I burn, gripped by agony, You're the one I need, you're the one I crave.
YUNUS EMRE
The world its Ramadan will end,      The lover's Id, The feast of love, O call him, friend!      For love is Id.
HABBA KHATOON
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there.
MEWLANA JALALUDDIN RUMI
Oh that I might capture the essence of this deep midwinter night And fold it softly into the waft of a spring-moon quilt, Then fondly uncoil it the night my beloved returns.
HWANG CHIN-I
O mailman, What is your desire of me? I am far removed from the world, Surely you are mistaken, For the earth holds nothing new For this outcast.
BULAND AL-HAIDARI
A plough and a spade, that's all. A row of chrysanthemums, and orchids, A place to plant beans: That's all I need.
NGUYEN TRAI
Dispensed in measure flow I kept a watchful heart for those I cared  A limit on what I ha My children would my love divide
FREDERIC SIPIERE
Every note to sound intent and choice With art expressing beyond a formal limit As music forms abandoned would be chaos While restrictive rules awake a creative spirit
FREDERIC SIPIERE
Reflection is like a house, It has many faces, spaces and dimensions; It may have a hole for a mouse or a shed for cow. But it an also shine like the king's mansions.
ANDREW YIP
Eleven customers — one custom That’s hard to fathom A common meal by the roadside Tastiest and dirtiest side by side.
ANDREW YIP