Category: Translation
-
“Dreams of a Happy Ending” by Farideh Hassanzadeh
Dreams of a Happy Ending I throw my nightmare into your arms with all my shaking and sweat, but you stick your hand into my heart to pluck my boobs. I throw my fear of losing words into a book, but you throw your shirt on the clouded pages to let me know “It is…
-
Poems written in Dublin by Sarah Chen
The Defamiliarizing Effects of Walking Around as a Passerby in Dublin City The defamiliarizing effects of walking around as a passerby in Dublin city a camera in hand and a greater inclination to look up are sweeping and various. You suspend dizzy with secrets – knowledge of red bricks and grass blades spoon-songs echoing from…
-
Merry Christmas 2018 Dear Poethead Readers ♥
Poetry publishing will resume in January 2019. I will be reading and responding to your submissions in the intervening period. Thank you for your emails, your queries, your support and responses over this year of 2018. As always, the site remains open and accessible. Please visit An Index Of Women Poets and Contemporary Irish Women…
-
How to Hide Unhappiness / Cum Ascundem Nefericirea by Ștefan Manasia translated by Clara Burghelea
The Miracle The red leaves struggle in the glass- angels whose name I don’t know I press them among the pages of the dead poet’s book, whose name I promise to unlearn. A little water (glittering like vodka) and their torture seems attractive to me. From the bus, I showed Estera the red tree like…
-
“Muiris” and other poems by Victoria Cosgrove
Killaclug IV I sat in a river in the land of the bad faeries up the country somewhere in County Cork When I dove in, the cold water stung my skin like an angry wasp— or a punishing whip— before settling me into it’s cool embrace. Calm. I tried to swim but the river bed…
-
‘The House That Don Built’ by Kevin Higgins
“The sky is high / We shit on earth / We look up the sky / The earth gives birth / To our future” …
-
‘If I were spring,’ and other poems by Mihaela Dragan
Quinces. Quinces seem to come from fairy tales. People even think of them as aliens, neither round nor oval neither glossy nor trivial not too dry and not too mellow but Lord, how they are handsome! They bring the Sun into a home dusty and drowsy, as if it had slept quietly among them!…
-
Poems by Valentina Colonna translated by Pawel Sakowski
Ho raccolto un’ombra quando salivo le scale. Stava giusto scendendo. Mentre toccavo le tegole ho perso un’idea. Rotolava avvolta tra i panni. Poi il vento ha smosso le fila: è scivolata travolta di vuoti. Il carro stava giusto passando. – Flatus Fluit Ad Fortunae Fossam – Ho appena cambiato l’acqua ai…
-
A Celebration of Women’s Poetry for International Women’s Day 2018
‘A History of Love Letters’ by Seanín Hughes Miss said every time I told a lie, Baby Jesus had a nail hammered into his hand. She said I had a sad mouth, corners downturned, pointing to hell. Stephen with the p-h had a mouth like sunshine. I gave him a token: a tiny toy…
-
Further excerpts from Paul Celan’s ‘microliths’
16 He who transforms himself wants, being the same, to become someone else. Shape = semblance 17 There is no such thing as the Ibolithic, you say! Well, where would we wind up if we agreed with that? For then the Lithic wouldn’t exist either, the basic Lithic, this idiom worked up with such great…
Chris Murray 