All posts filed under: Translation

Canto 1 of Dante’s Inferno, a transversion by Peter O’Neill

Canto 1 of Dante’s Inferno   In middle-age I found myself in an obscure wood, for the straight road had long since been lost.   Christ, how hard it is for me now to even contemplate how harsh and savage a place it was, without renewing my old fears!   It is a place so bitter that death might come as a relief; But to speak of the good I will tell of the other things too that I found.   I don’t know how I can begin to describe how I entered, having been so drugged in a kind of sleep that I had long since abandoned the straight way.   But, when I reached the foot of the hill, there where the valley ends, and where my heart had been seized with such anguish,   I looked up, and I saw its shoulders dressed in the rays of the planet which directs us all to where we need to go.   Then the fear was a little quieted, which had endured well into …

‘The Whetter of the Knife’ and other poems by Judith Mok

Beethoven in New York Fur Elise This night is on me like a blank sheet I have to write Of people playing my music that Fills the subway with my submerged sounds As if I am a whale vibrating through the thick of times Communicating that my name is: Beethoven A man of music in a storm of voices A choir, an army of American instruments People playing my music, people judging me How I rode this crushing wave of emotions I wake up to chaos and constellations in my head Thinking: I will have to tell her I heard this choir supporting some statement about me Thinking: it’s one breath of mine against three of hers That’s what our rhythm seems to be I hear this couple talking Two voices modulating into one Softly speaking specters of promises I spy on her asleep Sensing a child in her with too many dreams To chose from, her jaws clenched To keep them inside till they rot While she dies slowly in her sleep. Casual chords …

Let’s Hear Irish Poets Speak; the need for more poetry audiobanks in Ireland

Since this plea was published at The Bogman’s Cannon, I have been notified that one Irish University has been creating a collection of audio poetry. This was brought to my attention via comments under the original posting. Please check out the Seamus Heaney Centre Digital Archive & The Queen’s University, Belfast, Archives. The Electronic Poetry Center (U.S) was founded in 1995. UBUWEB was founded by Kenneth Goldsmith in 1996, it is an audio archive housing avant-garde works including visual, concrete and sound poetry, UBU also holds film files.  PENNSound was founded in 2003. To date, one Irish University has made a step towards providing accessible poetry archives in Ireland. Poetry Ireland has not gone an inch toward increasing accessibility to Irish audio poetry. Why is this?  Whatever way we choose to look at this situation, we can see that despite the tourist push on arts here. Ireland is one to two generations behind best practice in the area of accessibility to audio poetry. We focus on pushing a few poets (mainly to the American market) and …

“Phoenix” and other poems by Müesser Yeniay

The House of God   We landed from the house of God to the island of heart we came into being we are at the house of earth bodies are celestial   Phoenix Poeta pirata est I should be a phoenix to the peaks of my imagination I should see the tips of my horizon and introduce myself to it never I wish anything remains hidden from me since I came here to see the front and behind both of dreams and reality Woman The wind is blowing that sweeps the sand around words Everybody is calling God! I am taking myself from inside and putting it out with my hands. I am the place where human-being is less God is more. Phoenix and other poems are © Müesser Yeniay MÜESSER YENİAY was born in İzmir, 1984; she graduated from Ege University, with a degree in English Language and Literature. She took her M.A on Turkish Literature at Bilkent University. She has won several prizes in Turkey including Yunus Emre (2006), Homeros Attila İlhan (2007), …

‘the goldberg variations’ by Chris Murray

scene 1: the goldberg variations   a kiosk at the end of a dark train in an abandoned travelyard: two shadowmen ravel orange round about their nothing much the magician in his moth coat appears in a vaudeville flourish. your piano balcony is high above the narrow stone street, your piano plays the rescued Goldberg, plays, and plays through its charred pages, – their black edges. it is the gothic quarter men move in their coffins.  their coffins are white with crosses on (red)  their coffins are on narrow shelves of (stone) aside an archivum (shades of gray):     a shady tree     an etched stone     a skull and crossbones Scene 2 : the goldberg variations     that indestructible piano! the undestroyed Goldberg is playing (again) wending its tones above a skatepark of bullet-glass (the melody plays, yes). I see that:  the romans left their life-size eggs and urns below the city  stitches pull and sting on the underside of my elbow (pain) softening the blow here and here there is no stitching …