A problem with poetry is that it cannot be translated, so I’ll refer the originals:
- Correspondences by Baudelaire (what do you get if you mix many drugs in the French noble 1800s)
- The Road not taken by Frost (every choice has a consequence)
- Invictus by Henley (the power of the will and the soul)
- Non chiederci la parola by Montale (the impossibility of knowing)