None of us are gone. You may call us gone. You may moan. You may dash from the places where you would sit and you thought we wouldn’t find you. You mourn our loss, we know. You walk on the floorboards of the house as if you were alone, eyeing every corner. Your habits stay…
The woman was weeks away. Maybe even days away. The phone calls at first were difficult to understand. “You shouldn’t worry about this, but I’m getting thinner,” she said to her daughter, but instead of the note of excitement the girl expected, the woman sounded lost. “There’s less of me.” The girl imagined an old…
Translated from the Arabic by the author and C. J. Collins Peace Agreement Strong and Weak signed a peace agreement; Weak had the document framed in a gold frame and hung it in the front room of his house. He called a press conference to publicize the event with photographs and articles. He considered it…
In the fall of 2012, I received a call from my friend, the painter Pat de Groot. She told me that Neil Astley was visiting her in Provincetown with the artist and filmmaker, Pamela Robertson-Pearce, and she asked if I wanted to meet them. Of course I did. I had admired Bloodaxe books for years,…
The bones of a daytime moon then the shock of them across it: using their arms like wings, wheeling above Middleton Moor now as one body, now as many. They fly in wax jackets and blue check shirts, plaid jumpers and high vis, magpie-black leather. Sometimes you might catch a bracelet falling like a feather,…
original Gaelic poem with English translation by the author mo chasan a’ leughadh leabhar-cumha ruadh an fhoghair my feet reading the russet elegy-book of autumn eòlas nan dùil sgrìobhte ann an làmh rèimeil nan tùs ag innse dhomh gu’n d’fhiach an sgeul ath-aithris, nach eil anns an lobhadh ach bruadar knowledge of hopes written in…
original Irish poem with English translation by Gillian Clarke ar ôl “Bird Watching” R. S. Thomas after “Bird Watching” by R. S. Thomas A daeth taith fawr ddwsinau o ddrudwns i ben. It’s long journey’s end for a murmuration of starlings. Nid sbienddrych o bell yn gorwelio eu plu sy. Ond heddiw seicdreiddwyr eu…
original Irish poem with English translation by the author faiteadh súile feithide i bhforaois fearthainne i mBorneó the blink of an insect’s eye in the rain forest of Borneo chuir gála gaoithe ag réabadh na tíre, ag pleancadh scioból tuí set gale force winds ripping the country, battering tin sheds is monarchan iata, scoileanna réamhdhéanta…
While it is only possible for this Ploughshares transatlantic issue to offer a snapshot of current British and Irish poetry, I have tried to make it as representative as possible. Most of the poets I’ve been able to solicit work from are included in one or other of the three most recent generational anthologies published…
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