In this new work, by Palestinian poet Ramzi Salem, when “our habits shatter before our eyes,” there is a new vision of belonging: “these candles will become a homeland, / painting our silhouettes on the tent’s walls, / multiplying us in warmth and number.”
In this evocative 1969 poem, translated by Miles Cayman, Sargon Boulus writes: “my bankruptcy grew into a bird, / my love into an ember.”
In this brief poem by Boulus, translated by Miles Cayman, “Suddenly by chance and without warning / The table had / Vanished, the guests dispersed[.]”
Translating the Unseen: Gaza’s Sky and Anne Carson’s Vision By Alaa Alqaisi It began with an email from Dr. James Heaney, a professor of English and Irish studies at Carlow […]
Nour Balousha’s “Feet Unable to Arrive” appears in the new anthology from Trace Press, Arabic, between Love and War, edited by Norah Alkharashi & Yasmine Haj, and is reprinted here […]
Goodbye, War… By Doha Kahlout I will return without you, war— I will cut my nails stained by the black of fire and by bitter alienation, and I will let […]
Grief, a Wolf, December 31, 2024, by Olivia Elias, translated from French by Jérémy Victor Robert * in these barbaric times….I live like a sick person forced to save […]
When the Genocide is Over By Basman Eldirawi When the genocide is over I’ll walk on tiptoe Searching for my friends’ graves Thinking of words to write for Eman, Ouda, […]
By Adil Babikir October holds a special place in the modern history of Sudan. During this month, sixty years ago, the Sudanese people overthrew the first military dictatorship in what […]
