Literature in Translation |
“To Whom It May Concern: On a Poet’s Development”
“Dozens of poetry books could be published without the authors’ names on the cover, because the composers of these books, in essence, are not really authors, but weak-willed mediums of a mode, school or tendency.”
Literature in Translation |
from Lojman
“Selma grabbed the razor from Görkem’s hand. She pressed it against the green cord coming out of the baby’s belly and connecting to something mysterious inside her. In one deft motion, she slashed the cord. She took a piece of twine from her pocket and tied the end.”
Literature in Translation |
from All Before the Night
“Blind to your destiny / your hand holding your hand, you go off / into the abyss of knowledge.”
Literature in Translation |
“Atlas” & “Y2K”
“No aircraft appears in this photograph. Instead, a mountain of trash bins overflowing in the background. Empty tuna cans, coffee filters, dirty diapers, used needles, cattle bones.”
Literature in Translation |
from Emerald Wounds: Selected Poems
“Yet another dagger pulsing under the rain / Diamonds and deliriums of tomorrow’s memories / Taffeta sweat homeless beaches / Madness of my flesh gone astray”
Literature in Translation |
“Portrait of the hunt (the house)”
“Your idea of love was never excessive: / You first trust the thorn and then the rose, / in the fallow deer’s flight.”
Literature in Translation |
On Translating The Postcard by Anne Berest & an Excerpt from the Novel
“I knew, going in, that this was partly a story of lives lost in the Holocaust. That raised the stakes immediately. Without Anne’s book, and everything that went into the writing of it, the members of her family who died at Auschwitz would have remained anonymous and silent.”
Literature in Translation |
On Revisiting Amelia Rosselli’s The Dragonfly: Panegyric to Liberty (1958) — & an Excerpt
“Retranslating The Dragonfly offered an opportunity to revisit one of my favorite poems, to establish a through-line more clearly, and to eliminate errors that were minor but, for me, persistently nettlesome.”
Literature in Translation |
“The Wasp of Time,” “A Glass Dress” & “Peephole”
“It won’t let me part, it won’t let me inside — / so we’ll stand here like this and we’ll look / at each other this way today, tomorrow, forever. / O my enemy, mirror-eye!”
Literature in Translation |
from Professor Schiff’s Guilt, a novel by Agur Schiff
“The past I am being asked to submit to you, distinguished members of the Special Tribunal, is my family heritage, for good and for bad, and when it rears its head, I cannot pretend to be surprised.”
Literature in Translation |
“Guaranteed By Clouds,” “Cry As a Bird,” “How Little Use I Am,” “Winter,” “Promise to a Dove” & “Birthdays”
“I was here. / I pass through / without a trace. / The elms at the roadside / wave to me as I approach, / green blue golden greeting, / and forget me / before I’ve gone by.”
Literature in Translation |
“In San Mamete With Morris: In Memoriam,” “Death of a Painter” & “Buried Crowd”
“Of many dreams, now this: plane parts / buried in the fields. Black iron / blanketed with moss over the years, / a broken wing. / Never had a thing to say. Not one thing.”
Literature in Translation |
from The Abduction / Le Rapt
“Me, I’m divorced / Don’t panic / it’s not so bad / except if you’d been there / my child wouldn’t have been taken from me”
Literature in Translation |
“The First Step,” “Dionysos in Procession,” “The Satrapy,” “Sculptor of Tyana” & “The Displeasure of Selefkides”
“It’s hard on you, born and raised as you were / for the noblest, most magnificent challenges, / that this frustrating destiny of yours / keeps blocking recognition and success. / Trivial things are forever in your way, / pointless small concerns, despondency.”
Literature in Translation |
“Onwards,” “Too Philosophical,” “Doll,” “The Comfort of Complaining,” “The Benefits of Talking,” “To a Writer,” “Self-Reflection” & “I Wish I Had”
“How ghostly my life / in its fall and rise. / Always I see myself waving to myself, /’ floating away from the one waving. // I see myself as laughter, / as deep mourning again, ‘/ as a wild weaver of talk; / but all this falls away.”