Poems from the Artist’s Book Poetry— Paola Mancinelli
TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY PATRICK WILLIAMSON This passing of days around lifea childhood gamea feather dance among the whirlwinds.One more wrinkle on the world and you laugh.The white-haired trees, their thick roots.And you…...
Collective Death— Nirendranath Chakraborty
TRANSLATED FROM THE BENGALI BY ANINDITA MUKHERJEE Collective Death Rather be doubtful, have faith in alternative ideas.Rather be wounded by brutal questions.Rather whet your head, resist.No matter what you do, don’tconcur instantly.Because, whoever complies easily,they can do…...
The Third Eye and Other Poems— Yashodhara Raychaudhuri
TRANSLATED FROM THE BENGALI BY CHIRAYATA CHAKRABARTY The Third Eye You come into this family of warmth, of tenderness,and only wreak havoc, my dearYou are a thief of peaceGo home, go homeThat’s what they tell…...
Who is Crying? and Other Poems— Ramchandra Pramanik
TRANSLATED FROM THE BENGALI BY SREEJATA PAUL Who is Crying? Who is crying, lips aquiver, on that branch-fork of the banyan? Can you see? Isn’t that a kite? With a pile…...
Bidding Adieu to a City (part III & IV)— Uday Prakash
TRANSLATED FROM THE HINDI BY MOULINATH GOSWAMI Bidding Adieu to a City - 3 One daywe shall bathe in Narmadaboth of us together. Narmada emerges from Amarkantak,we would be thinking, andeven if it did…...
The March of History and Other Poems— Murilo Mendes
TRANSLATED FROM THE PORTUGUESE BY BAZ MARTIN GIBBONS REFLECTION No. 1 No one dreams twice the same dreamNor bathes twice in the same riverNor loves the same woman twice.God, the origin of all things,is…...
The 8.10 Ferry and Other Poems— Cemal Süreya
TRANSLATED FROM THE TURKISH BY NEIL P. DOHERTY Five O’Clock In Istanbul I raised up my handI was a little drunk, a little in love, a little like a minaret,I stopped all the passers-byLook, I…...
March 2020 and Other Poems— Davide Castiglione
TRANSLATED FROM THE ITALIAN BY THE AUTHOR Summer revelations, XI Father lies down on the grass.Non-synthetic grass; grass with bugs still. The sandal-wearing child gloriesin the chloride spray of the fountain. The fountain was out…...
Pandemic Postlude— Cosmin Perța
Translated from the Romanian by Andrew Davidson-Novosivschei Pandemic Postlude I Nothing stirred in this dry ice sky,My heart.The same miserable world, same unbearable summer, plastic mountains overBashful vegetation.We fill the gas tanks to seek deliverance,We begin…...