All posts filed under: How Words Play

“Morning in the Garden” in Şiirden 37

My thanks to Müesser Yeniay who is editor of Şiirden Magazine (of Poetry) and who translated “Morning in the Garden” for issue 37 of the magazine. The poem first appeared in ANU 48 (Editor, Amos Grieg). You can read some of Müesser Yeniay’s work at the following links, Three Poems, Phoenix and other poems, and Kafes (The Cage) and other poems. For me, poetry  can be about cross-cultural pollination (translation) and it can occur at very simple levels, without the trumpets and big budgets. Ekphrasis need not be limited to the image, nor need it be static. The issue is always quite simply about the poet’s response to the poetry of another. I am very grateful to Müesser for her translation of my work.

“Disarticulation” and other poems by Clare McCotter

Selfie With Thelma after Thelma and Louise   In the Southwest desert shedding turquoise on an old man’s palm she trades time for a beat up Stetson hat. Only a day or two since she posed with rose red lips black sun glasses and Audrey Hepburn headscarf marking the start of their journey with the big Polaroid held at arm’s length.   A snapshot of two smiling faces left lying on the backseat of a convertible loaded down with all the stuff they thought they needed pencilling in borders shoring up boundaries soon smudged with ochre earth lost in the dust from a stampede of stars.   Everything looks different now doused with dirt they are part of place gunning the engine before flooring it for the canyon cliff. Out here at Dead Horse Point there are no shallow graves wooden markers or name plates only a thunderbird still whipping up storms suspended in a high solitary leap of faith.   Disarticulation in memory of E M   For them the grave gave no rest. …

“Colour” and Other Poems by Paul Casey

Colour for T.S.Eliot and after fourteen poets The purple stole away from the skins of plums Everywhere we turned became a maze of colour I protect you with an indigo coloured whisper You curve the ends of my black and white day Coffee brown, is mole, dying leaves, dry earth But smell led me here, the smell of yellow The blue, white and red stripes of exotic confusion Moving over the green gravel of a formal grave I wet my lips and a blackbird flies out of my mouth Faces in the front row, silvered in screenlight, focus I thought everyone knew what was meant by sugar-paper blue Tyrian dyes and flax and peacock plumes Gold and yellow where the clouds crack and break away Anemone-blue mountains outlined against the pearl-grey morning Colour was first published in Live Encounters Fishapod out of Watercolour The Spring sea arrives in flailing sage, clutches lime-white soles with the early hunger of sand. Seeping, air-bound, caught on the cusp of an inner eclipse I turn to olive water. Nothing …

“Bookmarking The Oasis” and other poems by K. Srilata

Things I didn’t know I loved (after Nazim Hikmet) I didn’t know I loved windows so much but I do – enough to wrestle someone to the ground over them, so light can, once again, flood my eyes. I didn’t know I loved bare feet so much, or walking away on them to wherever point, my heart slung over my shoulder like a sheep-skin bag. I didn’t know I loved small islands of quiet in the middle of the day, but I do – they feel like old friends. I didn’t know I loved the idea of night descending like a tired bird or birds flying in and out of rooms and poems but I do. I didn’t know I loved so many things. Only now that I have read Hikmet, am I setting them free, one by one. from Bookmarking the Oasis(Poetrywala, 2015) Looking for Light, Sunbirds I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being. (Hafiz of Shiraz) Looking for light, sunbirds …

Alexander Cigale’s translation of Anna Akhmatova’s “Requiem”on Project Muse

  Alexander Cigale has retranslated Anna Akhmatova’s “Requiem” for Project Muse. I have been following the translation process for a while and I thought to add links here for readers of Akhmatova, including Cigale’s translations of Anna Akhmatova’s Minatures and a link to “Epilogue” from Requiem, Via Moving Poems EDIT: Alex Cigale has shared a link to his entire translation of Anna Akhmatova’s “Requiem” (Hopkins Review) for those readers who do not have a subscription to Project Muse. From The Prologue (Requiem) This isn’t me, someone else suffers. I couldn’t survive that. And what happened, May it be covered in coarse black cloth, Let them carry away the streetlights … Night. from Prologue (Requiem) by Anna Akhmatova translated by Alexander Cigale   Anna Andreyevna Gorenko better known by the pen name Anna Akhmatova was a Russian modernist poet, one of the most acclaimed writers in the Russian canon.   Akhmatova’s work ranges from short lyric poems to intricately structured cycles, such as Requiem (1935–40), her tragic masterpiece about the Stalinist terror. Her style, characterised by …