New Poetry in Translation: ‘My Neck Against a Wall’
“Dust / devours me, / embracing my breathless lungs, / reading the glint in my ambiguous eyes.”
“Dust / devours me, / embracing my breathless lungs, / reading the glint in my ambiguous eyes.”
Here, Khaldah Salih and Fathima Cader interweave a translation of “October Al Akhdar” with their reflections on the lessons that historic and ongoing struggle in Sudan provide for liberation struggles everywhere.
We are a little more than 20% of the way toward our goal with our summer “Buy a Back Issue” campaign. This poem, by Moroccan poet Michrafy Abdelwadoud, appeared in CATS issue of the magazine; you can support the campaign by buying a copy of this or other back issues or backlist books, available now through ArabLit.org/Shop.
A new poem by Syrian author-architect Saer Wadoud in Alaa Alqaisi’s translation: “She is from here— / from our tears. / Ordinary as our battered land, / yet none resemble her.”
These five poems are by Hend Jouda, a poet from Gaza whose grandparents were displaced from the village of Ashdod in 1948. Born in the Bureij refugee camp in 1983, Jouda has published three collections: Someone Always Leaves (2013), No Sugar in the City (2017), and A Finger That Managed to Survive (2024).
Fatima El-Kalay and Mai Serhan talk about Mai’s new collection, CAIRO: the undelivered letters.
This poem appears in Aisha Odeh’s second memoir, A Price for the Sun, in a section in which Odeh reflects on how an engagement with poetry found in Palestinian newspapers enabled the transformation of prison into a space of community both within and outside of the prison.
“My river was always a Nile, / my patience, a wistful shore.”
“howling in the air / the wind outside / the heart inside / unsettled and troubled”