user5691: I know only a couple. Fictions refers to movies or novels but not poems. Do you know any of them?

user213: Say this one- 

'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for
  Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one
  by one back in the Closet lays. -- Omar Khayyam


user4543: I like this one -
I'd be a happier man if I could play the Caro-Kann
But it seems to me when I play pawn to QB3
White gets a knight on K5, and then as sure as I'm alive
My Rook file's opened and my Queen exposed to dangers unforseen
By Nimzowitch and all that lot who think the Caro rather hot
Then if I reach the middle game my play is lifeless cold and tame
White's game is logical and bright, while nothing I can do is right.
I grow so tired of "Check", "Check"
"Check", that I become a nervous wreck
And get into a hopeless pin, allowing White an easy win.
Tell Nimzowitch it's all a plant. The opening's really Caro-Can't

- Huxley St. John-Brooks.


user446: Here's a poem by Jorge Luis Borges:
AJEDREZ
I
En su grave rincón, los jugadores
rigen las lentas piezas. El tablero
los demora hasta el alba en su severo
ámbito en que se odian dos colores.
Adentro irradian mágicos rigores
las formas: torre homérica, ligero
caballo, armada reina, rey postrero,
oblicuo alfil y peones agresores.
Cuando los jugadores se hayan ido,
cuando el tiempo los haya consumido,
ciertamente no habrá cesado el rito.
En el Oriente se encendió esta guerra
cuyo anfiteatro es hoy toda la tierra.
Como el otro, este juego es infinito.
II
Tenue rey, sesgo alfil, encarnizada
reina, torre directa y peón ladino
sobre lo negro y blanco del camino
buscan y libran su batalla armada.
No saben que la mano señalada
del jugador gobierna su destino,
no saben que un rigor adamantino
sujeta su albedrío y su jornada.
También el jugador es prisionero
(la sentencia es de Omar) de otro tablero
de negras noches y de blancos días.
Dios mueve al jugador, y éste, la pieza.
¿Qué Dios detrás de Dios la trama empieza
de polvo y tiempo y sueño y agonías?

English translation:
I
In their solemn corner, the players move
The slow pieces. The board detains them
Until the dawn in its severe world
In which two colors hate each other.
Within the forms irradiates magic
Strictness: Homeric rook, swift
Knight, armed queen, crucial king,
Oblique bishop and aggressive pawns.
Once the players have finally left,
Once time has devoured them,
Surely the ritual will not have ended.
In the orient like this very war flared up
Whose amphitheater today is the earth entire.
Like the other, the game is infinite.
II
Weakling king,  slanting bishop, relentless
Queen, direct rook and cunning pawn
Seek and wage their armed battle
Across the black and white of the field.
They know not that the player’s selected
Hand governs their destiny,
They know not that a rigor adamantine
Subjects their will and rules their day.
The player also is a prisoner
(The saying  is Omar’s) of another board
Of black nights and of white days.
God moves the player, and he, the piece.
Which god behind God begets the plot
Of dust and time and dream and agonies?

5691: <p>I know only a couple. Fictions refers to movies or novels but not poems. Do you know any of them?</p>
 213: <p>Say this one- </p>

<blockquote>
  <p>'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for
  Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one
  by one back in the Closet lays. -- Omar Khayyam</p>
</blockquote>
 4543: <p>I like this one -</p>

<pre><code>I'd be a happier man if I could play the Caro-Kann
But it seems to me when I play pawn to QB3
White gets a knight on K5, and then as sure as I'm alive
My Rook file's opened and my Queen exposed to dangers unforseen
By Nimzowitch and all that lot who think the Caro rather hot
Then if I reach the middle game my play is lifeless cold and tame
White's game is logical and bright, while nothing I can do is right.
I grow so tired of "Check", "Check"
"Check", that I become a nervous wreck
And get into a hopeless pin, allowing White an easy win.
Tell Nimzowitch it's all a plant. The opening's really Caro-Can't

- Huxley St. John-Brooks.
</code></pre>
 446: <p>Here's a poem by Jorge Luis Borges:</p>

<p><strong>AJEDREZ</strong></p>

<p>I</p>

<p>En su grave rincón, los jugadores
rigen las lentas piezas. El tablero
los demora hasta el alba en su severo
ámbito en que se odian dos colores.</p>

<p>Adentro irradian mágicos rigores
las formas: torre homérica, ligero
caballo, armada reina, rey postrero,
oblicuo alfil y peones agresores.</p>

<p>Cuando los jugadores se hayan ido,
cuando el tiempo los haya consumido,
ciertamente no habrá cesado el rito.</p>

<p>En el Oriente se encendió esta guerra
cuyo anfiteatro es hoy toda la tierra.
Como el otro, este juego es infinito.</p>

<p>II</p>

<p>Tenue rey, sesgo alfil, encarnizada
reina, torre directa y peón ladino
sobre lo negro y blanco del camino
buscan y libran su batalla armada.</p>

<p>No saben que la mano señalada
del jugador gobierna su destino,
no saben que un rigor adamantino
sujeta su albedrío y su jornada.</p>

<p>También el jugador es prisionero
(la sentencia es de Omar) de otro tablero
de negras noches y de blancos días.</p>

<p>Dios mueve al jugador, y éste, la pieza.
¿Qué Dios detrás de Dios la trama empieza
de polvo y tiempo y sueño y agonías?</p>

<hr>

<p>English translation:</p>

<p>I</p>

<p>In their solemn corner, the players move
The slow pieces. The board detains them
Until the dawn in its severe world
In which two colors hate each other.</p>

<p>Within the forms irradiates magic
Strictness: Homeric rook, swift
Knight, armed queen, crucial king,
Oblique bishop and aggressive pawns.</p>

<p>Once the players have finally left,
Once time has devoured them,
Surely the ritual will not have ended.</p>

<p>In the orient like this very war flared up
Whose amphitheater today is the earth entire.
Like the other, the game is infinite.</p>

<p>II</p>

<p>Weakling king,  slanting bishop, relentless
Queen, direct rook and cunning pawn
Seek and wage their armed battle
Across the black and white of the field.</p>

<p>They know not that the player’s selected<br>
Hand governs their destiny,
They know not that a rigor adamantine
Subjects their will and rules their day.</p>

<p>The player also is a prisoner
(The saying  is Omar’s) of another board
Of black nights and of white days.</p>

<p>God moves the player, and he, the piece.
Which god behind God begets the plot
Of dust and time and dream and agonies?</p>
