Poems from William Yang-Goodwin
How happy the soul! whose heart’s desire
Stays content; he makes his rounds,
Who needs no wealth nor praise of choir,
Yet joy abounds.
...
Sometimes, in the rainstorm, you bump into another
But most of the time, you don’t. The rain is a solitary
thing, a divider. But when you...
(From Andocides: the Minor Orators)
ὅτι μὲν εἰρήνην ποιεῖσθαι δικαίαν ἄμεινόν ἐστιν ἢ πολεμεῖν, δοκεῖτέ μοι, ὦ Ἀθηναῖοι, πάντες...
Oh, Boreas! Thine icy wind does blow,
With chilling breath, and painteth land all white,
But yearn I must when cov’ring all is snow.
For...
The lofty gods, in counsel high enthroned
Survey’d the earth, all splendors brightly shown,
Yet soon the Fates, discord by their wings,...