The image is the real character of the poem He must have been from Czechoslovakia. His sister had died. He took a liking to my mother— He approached her and said, “listen: You want to get out of here? When I leave I can get you out of here and you...
GAZA, May 23 (Reuters) - Three months into the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which has closed off access to lower-priced Black Sea wheat, owners of five mills in the Palestinian Gaza Strip are feeling the heat as they try to replenish stocks....
My girlfriend adopts a rabbit, and we name him Bubu Dostoevsky Luo. Luo is my girlfriend’s last name. Luo bu means radish in Chinese. Dostoevsky is a writer I like. Bubu never writes in the first month, although his modest nose twitching...
Translated by Sinan Antoon There is a road Adorned with ceilings Washed by memory until they are white Under a sky at the apex of its agony Where I walk Where my words want to rise like the stairs of a castle Like sounds ascending the lost scale...
/The Fence/Saadi Youssef Translated by Khaled Mattawa Khaled Mattawa is a cultural ambassador and poet-translator of Arabic poetry giving voice to a vast literature largely unknown in the Western hemisphere. In masterful translations that evoke the...
I touch my heart, every day I touch the floor of the guest room And I spin in my memory Looking for the place where we sat one day !I can't find it though I touch my forehead every day I touch the floor of the kitchen I daze in my memory searching...
Your hands easy weight, teasing the bees hived in my hair, your smile at the slope of my cheek. On the occasion, you press above me, glowing, spouting readiness, and mystery rapes my reason When you have withdrawn yourself and the magic, when only th...
Muslims throughout the world are observing Ramadan. Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar that occurs about 11 days earlier each year; after 33 years, this 11-day difference makes Muslims, anywhere in the world, fast equally du...
Saleh Razzouk (with Scott Minar) My father told me to keep calm until he got back, then he went off with Um Habib*. Afte...
I arrive in the former Jewish ghetto in Prague on July 2, the day before Kafka’s birthday. I’d been reading him all year. And not only him—but about him--the biographies, the criticism. Kafka and the Cabbalah, Kafka on Film…why was I so hung up on...