New Online in November 2014: Arabic Literature in Translation

Excerpt from The Snow of Cairo (on the Brooklyn Rail)

The dog, which was in the habit of rummaging through the trash, could not find the trash it was in the habit of rummaging through.

It was March 28, 2064. For many reasons, to be related herein and hereafter, this day was the grimmest in Alexandria’s history. Everyone suffered its sting, but the one who felt it most was the dog that couldn’t find the trash. He hunted along the Metro station’s wall where the great heap should have been, with clouds of circling flies hovering above it, but found nothing. Not even the wall itself. The neighbourhood was strangely exposed to the sun. Like a desert.

Ten new poems by Mohab Nasr, as yet unpublished (on Qisasukhra)

By Mohab Nasr, trans. Robin Moger

For a long time I longed to be a writer,

To grasp any old idea like a doorknob and say, “Come in…”

With the slight bow of one who shows self-confidence

Without having to prove it;

I was a complete disaster

And they’d urge me on by feigning wonder.