All posts filed under: Translation

Un incontro / An encounter and other poems by Viviana Fiorentino, translated by Maria McManus

Poet’s Note These poems that I submitted are a part of my experience as a volunteer in an immigrant detention centre in Northern Ireland. They were written in Italian and translated into English by the poet Maria McManus. The English language versions appear beneath the poems.                              – Viviana Fiorentino Approdo i Cielo, tu sei troppo grande; blu di Persia – non ti conosco.   ii io ti chiamo, Terra; dammi un suolo per questi piedi una casa alle mie incertezze un rifugio per dubitare.   iii Un posto per vivere.   Landing i Sky, you are too big; Persian Blue – I cannot know you.   ii Instead, I call on you, Land; give me a place to put my feet, a home for my uncertainty, a place to doubt.   iii A place to live.   Approdo / Landing © Viviana Fiorentino, english trans by Maria McManus   Correnti Ora è questo un manto di alghe e sale sotto il …

“Dreams of a Happy Ending” by Farideh Hassanzadeh

Dreams of a Happy Ending I throw my nightmare into your arms with all my shaking and sweat, but you stick your hand into my heart to pluck my boobs. I throw my fear of losing words into a book, but you throw your shirt on the clouded pages to let me know “It is missing a button”. You have thrown in my face every day all the small particles of dust on the shelves and in every corner, more sharply than a magnifying glass, but you ignore the sandstorms devouring your mate. Ah! how simply you turn our shining marriage ring into a stinging snake slithering so fast towards my so-romantic dreams of a happy ending. “with many thanks for Becca Menon’s help recreating this poem in English”   A song of despair People go to the park together People go to the cinema together People become friends now and then and write letters to each other they even marry each other sometimes and live at a home for long years always together but …

Poems written in Dublin by Sarah Chen

The Defamiliarizing Effects of Walking Around as a Passerby in Dublin City The defamiliarizing effects of walking around as a passerby in Dublin city a camera in hand and a greater inclination to look up are sweeping and various. You suspend dizzy with secrets – knowledge of red bricks and grass blades spoon-songs echoing from street to streets teal bikes intertwined in leggy daydream watching beer barrels sleep – or is this just the hangover from last night? The pink lady and the blue lady glide past the Celtic refrain but are enchanted yet same as you. The many lovers in the green are the same as the bookish man beside you is the same as the jogging woman in heels is the same as the boy feeding the seagulls is the same as the man laughing at the boy feeding the seagulls is the same as the seagulls are the same as you. Jerking back and spinning forward many times and many “sorry’s” sudden stops and the ever-present hesitance to street-cross you’re swept dizzy …

“Beochaoineadh Máthar Maoise” and other poems by Ellen Nic Thomás

Beochaoineadh Máthar Maoise A dhílleachta linbh gan ainm, gan athair, Do chraiceann ar aondath le humha an nathair, A lúbann timpeall do thaobhán uiríseal, Mar bhata ceannródaí is sníomhanna sisil. Is trua liom ciseán do dhóchas a fhíochán, Do dhán a chaitheamh i bpoll an duibheagáin, D’eiseadh a chruthú ar bhunús baill séire, ‘Nois tá tú chomh cotúil leis an gCailleach Bhéarra. A iníon, a mhiceo, a ógfhlaith bocht, A leanbh truaillithe, maith dom mo locht, Imigh anois leat, ná bí do mo chrá, Le smaointe ciúinchiontacha ó mhaidin go lá.   Ordóg Fhinn Ordóg Fhinn — The salmons skin Brushes the truth to his lip. The cardinal sin The space within — He dares to taste a sip. Blistering bliss The hero’s kiss Upon one fingertip. The bubble bursts, The burning thirst — Quenched.   Itch Not a fever-stirring, raging thing, The kind of sore that, left alone, won’t sting, But crueller still it tempts me to indulge To rake the wound and make the blisters bulge. It calls my nails to dig deep …

‘a song to rest the tired dead’ and other poems by Raine Geoghegan, MA

Romanichals in the 1950’s (i) covels packed chavies scrubbed clean me rackley’s bal washed with panni the grai grizhomed holled (ii) opre and gel on dikk the next atchin tan a fellow chal pookers kushti bokt Romani words: Romanichals – English Romanies; Covels – belongings; Chavies – children; rackley’s – girls; Grai – horses; Grizhomed – groomed; Holled – fed. Opre – arise/forward; Dikk – look for; Atchin tan – stopping place; Chal – Travelling man; Pookers – calls out; Kushti bok – good luck   Somewhere in Apple Water country Me Mum’s cookin’ sushi stew. Me Dad’s chinning the koshtie’s. I’m practisin’ handwritin’ with a fine pencil. I’m lookin’ forward to sendin’ a proper letter to me cousin Louie, she’s a didikai and goes to school in London. Me dad calls it royal town and say’s ‘e wouldn’t go there, not if yer paid ‘im. She ‘as to wear a uniform, red and gold, but she can’t wear ‘er gold ‘oops, it’s against the rules. If I ever went to school, me dad would …