In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

My favorite would be Desiderata by Max Ehrmann. It is a prose poem of positivity and inner peace.

Here's a link: http://www.cs.columbia.edu/~gongsu/desiderata_textonly.html

Translation by Lindsey Malcolm:

Today I see that your look is particularly sad,
And your hands are particularly fragile, clasped over your knees.
Just listen: far, far away, on Lake Chad
Roams a proud giraffe.
He has been blessed with gracefulness and bliss,
His hide is decorated with a magical pattern,
That only the moon would dare to compete with,
Glistenting and bouncing on the wetness of the wide lake.
From a distance he looks like the coloured sail of a ship,
And when running he glides, like the flight of a gleeful bird.
I know that there are a lot of miraculous things to see in the world,
When at sunset he hides himself in a marble grotto.*
I know the merry fairy tales of mysterious lands
About a dark maiden, about the fear of a youthful chief,
But you have breathed in the heavy fog for too long,
You don't want to believe in anything but the rain.
And when I tell you about a tropical garden,
About straight-standing palms, about the unbelievable
scent of the grasses…
You're crying? Just listen… far away, on Lake Chad
Roams a proud giraffe.

Translation by Katherine Gilbert

Today, I see, your gaze is particularly forlorn,
And your hands particularly thin, embracing your knees.
Listen: far away, far away, on Lake Chad,
A refined giraffe is roaming.
His proportions are harmonious and his legs are long,
And a bewitching pattern adorns his skin;
Nothing dares compare with it, save the moon,
Fragmented and flowing on the liquid of broad lakes.
He juts out like the many-colored sails of ships,
And his gait is floating, like joyous birdflight.
I know this earth has seen many wonders
When at sunset he hides in a marble grotto.
I know the happy stories of secret lands,
About the dark maiden, about the passion of the young chief,
But you have breathed in the heavy mists for too long -
You will believe in nothing, except rain.
And how I would tell you about tropical orchards,
About elegant palms, about the scent of extraordinary grasses…
You're crying? Listen… far away, on Lake Chad,
A refined giraffe is roaming.

Translation by Alexander Shaumyan :

Today I can see your expression is especially sad,
And your arms that are hugging your knees so frail and fine,
But listen: somewhere far off by the distant lake Chad
An exotic giraffe roams about, adorned and refined.
An exquisite figure and a leisurely life are his boon
And a magical pattern that covers his beautiful hide,
Whose beauty can only be rivaled by the brilliant moon
That breaks on the surface of lakes in a tremulous light.
He looks at a distance like the colorful sails of the ships,
His run so smooth, like the birds in the jubilant flight,
I know there's much of miraculous one can glimpse
When in a grotto of marble at sunset he hides.
Of faraway countries I've heard many cheerful songs,
Of an ebony maiden, of a daring and passionate swain,
But you've been breathing this thick foggy air too long,
You wouldn't believe in anything else but the rain.
And how could I tell you about the tropical land,
About the palms and the herbs that one rarely finds?…
Are you weeping? But listen… far off by the distant lake Chad
An exotic giraffe roams about, adorned and refined.