We are all falling. This hand here is falling.
And look at the others: it is in them all.
Yet there is One who holds this falling
infinitely gently in His hands.

— Rainer Maria Rilke

落木千山天远大，
澄江一道月分明。

Fallen trees spread over a thousand mountains beneath a vast sky;
One clear river reflects the bright moon.

— Huang Tingjian 黄庭坚 (1045-1105)

太乙近天都，
连山接海隅。
白云回望合，
青霭入看无。

Mount Zhongnan rises toward Heaven’s capital;
Its ranges stretch to the edge of the sea.
Looking back, white clouds close behind;
Looking in, blue mist dissolves into nothing.

— Wang Wei 王维 (701-761)

He had been singing—but I had not heard his voice;  
He had been weaving lovely dreams of song,  
O many a morning long.

— Charles Hanson Towne

you shattered me
into a thousand tiny pieces
of my untamed self,
and for once,
i roared.

— Jadine Lydia

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes…

— Lord Byron

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

We slowly drove – He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility –

— Emily Dickinson

I do not know what gorgeous thing
The bluebird keeps saying,
His voice easing out of his throat,
beak, body into the pink air
of the early morning.  I like it
whatever it is. 

— Mary Oliver