You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

- Maya Angelou

На морски бряг съм го съзирал –
Разсеян гледа в далнината,
В полето пак съм го намирал –
Навел замислено главата,
и вред. А бог знай де запътен,
той плахо мята поглед мътен,
с усмивка странна и зловеща,
избягващ всяка хорска среща.

Светът безпътни не обича
и всеки го по длъжност мрази –
и всеки се от него пази,
но луд го никой не нарича.

Изпити, хлътнали страните,
по мрачен лоб черти дълбоки –
това са, явно е, следите
на изпитания жестоки;
но вечно сам в тълпата шумна,
любов ли някаква безумна,
безумна някоя ли злоба,
нещастник, носи той към гроба?

- Пейо К. Яворов

Szabadság, szerelem!
E ketto kell nekem.
Szerelmemért föláldozom
Az életet,
Szabadságért föláldozom
Szerelmemet.

Две неща ми трябват на земята ­
те са любовта и свободата.
Жертвал бих живота
безвъзвратно
за любов,
любовта да дам за свободата
съм готов.
(Превод Н. Стефанова) 

Свободата, любовта
са ми всичко на света.
Любовта ми е с цената
на смъртта.
Бих отдал за свободата
любовта.
(Превод Р. Ралин)


Liberty, love

Liberty, love!
These two I need.
For my love I will sacrifice life,
for liberty I will sacrifice my love.

Dust if you must.
But wouldn’t it be better,
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed?
Ponder the difference between want and need.

Dust if you must.
But there is not much time
With rivers to swim and mountains to climb!
Music to hear, and books to read,
Friends to cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must.
But the world’s out there
With the sun in your eyes,
the wind in your hair,
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain.
This day will not come round again.

Dust if you must.
But bear in mind,
Old age will come and it’s not kind.
And when you go, and go you must,
You, yourself, will make more dust.

      written by Mrs. Rose Milligan

You start dying slowly
if you do not travel,
if you do not read,
If you do not listen to the sounds of life,
If you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowly
When you kill your self-esteem;
When you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowly
If you become a slave of your habits,
Walking everyday on the same paths…
If you do not change your routine,
If you do not wear different colours
Or you do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowly
If you avoid to feel passion
And their turbulent emotions;
Those which make your eyes glisten
And your heart beat fast.

You start dying slowly
If you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,
If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,
If you do not go after a dream,
If you do not allow yourself,
At least once in your lifetime,
To run away from sensible advice…

Pablo Neruda

by Edgar Allan Poe

[First published in 1845]