Search Results for: PEN TEN

When I Was a Man

When I was a man I lived in San Cristóbal. At the top of the mountains in the south, along the border of Guatemala, in a place where they… More

Greeting, Slippage, and Shaping

As someone specifically interested in the translation of poetry, of the free verse variety, I will come down squarely on the side of occasional long shots, slippages into the… More

Paulo Henriques Britto: Lullaby

LullabyNight after night, exhausted,digesting the day, past wordsand this side of sleep, we lie simplified,stripped of past lives and projects,weary of voices and verticals,relieved to be only bodies side… More

May Day

May DayPoland in France with the sound of a centaur going into waterTo thou your misfortunein the collective amnesia of dates, of Nocturnesof Shakos, of blackened fragments of icons… More

Recumbents

Cardiogram (May)The Seine was green by your armFurther than the Mirabeau bridge beneaththe hills like a breathingThe suburbs praised usI would have wanted I would haveso needed you to… More

On Translation

Translation is of course conspiracy. Whatever else it is or may intend, translation represents a concerted move of the few against the many, the foreign against the domestic, there… More

Inverted Realism

I remember when I published my first, very unsuccessful novel, a science-fiction novel, which, to the despair of my publishers, I keep telling people not to read. A friend… More

Lost in Translation

The world is invited, commanded, to brood. Place his suicide in a Western context, or in the Japanese one, or in both, where I think it most significantly belongs.… More

Through Western Eyes

Mishima was a very strange Japanese. His ritual suicide, his final call to cast off Western influences and return to traditional Japanese values, including veneration of the emperor, has… More