«My Sister, my Muse, looked into my face, / her glance both sharp and clear; / and she took away my golden ring, / Spring's first present of the year. / O Muse! You can see how happy they are, / the girls, the women and widows... / I would rather be broken on the wheel / than carry thes...»
«Some spend the time exchanging fond glances, / others drink on till the first rays of sun; / all night I’m making retreats and advances, / conscience and I in a battle not won. I say, “How long have I carried your yoke, / a dead weight on my back all those years!” / But conscience h...»
«Why did you pollute the water, / with vileness adulterate my bread? / Why did you make the final freedom / into a den of thieves instead? / Was it because I did not mock / the bitter fate of friends? / Was it because I’d not betrayed / my piteous native land? / So be it. There can ...»
«Wide and yellow the evening light. / I feel a gentle April chill. / Your coming's late by many a year / but to me you're welcome still. Look at me with those merry eyes; / sit down next to me this minute: / here's that blue-bound notebook / with my girlish verses in it. Forgive me for ...»