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
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
Trompe l’oeil
Trompe l'oeilAll the failures of an existence,when meticulously compiled,and given a certain coherence,resemble a sort of pyramid—monumental—though truncated,maybe—when seen from a distanceat the precise moment the fadingsun reaches it,… More
Poems (1945-1971)
The CanaryThey stood him where the harshest wind blowsthey promised him to the froststhey gave him a black dressand a red tiea nail-punctured sun that drippedblack glassesblood… More
Miltos Sachtouris: The Soldier
The SoldierI have written no poemsin thudsin thudsmy life rolledOne day I trembledthe next day I shudderedin fearin fearmy life passedI have written no poemsI have written no poemsI… More
We Have the Right to Love Autumn
And we, too, have the right to love the last days of autumn and ask:/ Is there room in the field for a new autumn, so we may lie… More
The New Boy (from Landnahme)
It was the middle of September—the new school year had just begun—when Miss Nitzschke brought a new boy to our third-period class. Miss Nitzschke was our class advisor; she… More
Gregory Rabassa
As one who works at spreading an awareness of what people are writing and saying in other languages through translation, I have long celebrated the labors of PEN American… More
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