trans. Spanish Gregory Rabassa 18. Jakarta is Here We were living the heroic eve. But I had one worry: the condition of the tanks that on June 29th, the morning of the tanking, when Madman Soupez brought them out to take the Moneda, didn't look so good. The general in charge of the tank formations…
MASTHEAD Directors DeWitt Henry Peter O'Malley Coordinating Editor for This Issue Stratis Haviaras Managing Editor Susannah Lee CONTRIBUTORS Anna Akhmatova / trans. Judith Hemschemeyer. Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966), one of the great Russian poets of the 20th century, had a career spanning 55 years. Her early, startlingly original love lyrics won her almost instant fame, but…
A white horse, a jade crop, and gilded reins: so easy for a young man to say farewell. The road into the distance is a million miles long. If you're saddened by clouds and water in a strange land, fill your cup with wine, I beg you with tears. …
trans. Portuguese Lisa Sapinkopf 1. Luminous the abolished days When noon bent the columns' shadows And the blue of the sky was drinking up the earth Grown calm in the murmur Of the foliage and the gods. 2. L'Age D'Airain (Rodin) Slowly, slowly, before the light, Laden with shadows and weight, Pulling his body up…
What's A Story Mary Ward Brown Rosellen Brown Robert Cohen Carol Cosman Louise Glück Brenda Hillman Rhoda Huffey Jeff Hush August Kleinzahler Phillip Lopate Thomas McGuane Sue Miller Oscar Pemantle Mary Peterson Edgar Poma C. E. Poverman David Reid Danny Romero Roger Salloch Jean-Paul Sartre Gary Soto Edited by Leonard Michaels ISSN 0048-4474
Return deep in the night, drunk out of my mind, I'm helped stagger through the tasselled door-way, still unsobered; pass out cold: wine stench blends with the scent of musk and orchid. I wake up with a start: HA! HA! HA! I've always said, ”How long can a man live?”
trans. Portuguese Lisa Sapinkopf "You promised me more stories!" Jamila insisted, seated Buddha-like on the Persian rug, her back turned to Fatima, in the darkest corner of the large living room kept shaded by the windows' thick shutters. The weak light from outside entered only through the open door that gave onto the garden where…
Over the years I have developed a distaste for the spectacle of joie de vivre, the knack of knowing how to live. Not that I disapprove of all hearty enjoyment of life. A flushed sense of happiness can overtake a person anywhere, and one is no more to blame for it than the Asiatic flu…
Bell and drum cold, pavilion tower dark, moon shines on the golden well by the ancient pawlonias, deep compound locked, small courtyard empty, fallen flowers pink in the fragrant dew. Misty willows sombre, spring haze light, lamp behind the crystal window in the tall pavilion; quietly rests against…
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