trans. Czech David Young and author Those who were greening, they shall be turned to snow. Those who were about to fly shall fall asleep in the tar pits like the wolves of La Brea. Those who called out shall be turned to an exclamation point at the end of a declaratory sentence never spoken….
trans. Italian Jonathan Galassi Don't ask us for the word to frame our shapeless spirit on all sides, and blaze it in letters of fire, to shine like a lost crocus in a dusty plain. Ah, the man who walks secure, a friend to others and himself, uncaring that high summer prints his shadow on…
When I grow up and you get small, then — (In Kaluza's theory the fifth dimension is represented as a circle associated with every point in spacetime) —then when I die, I'll never be alive again? Never. Never never? Never never. Yes, but never never never? No . . . not never…
trans. Italian Ruth Feldman Sir, starting next month Please accept my resignation And, if necessary, find a replacement for me. I leave a lot of uncompleted work, Whether from laziness or practical difficulties. I should have said something to someone, But no longer know what or to whom: I have forgotten. I should have given…
trans. Czech Ewald Osers Life taught me long ago that music and poetry are the most beautiful things on earth that life can give us. Except for love, of course. In an old textbook, published by the Imperial Printing House in the year of Vrchlicky's death, I looked up the section on poetics and poetic…
Only my enemy for all time, The abominable black queen, Has had nerve equal to mine In helpin her inept king. Inept and cowardly mine too — that's understood: From the very start he's crouched Behind his row of plucky pawns, Then fled across the chessboard, Askew, ridiculous, with little stumbling steps. Battles are not…
ALLEGRO NON TANTO It's getting dark. But don't turn on the light. I like to look at your eyes in the dusk. Tell me then! How's Vienna? Do they still sell in the market bunches of lavender, that sweet fragrance of bygone loves from the end of the millenium? My mother used to put them…
When a child dies & it is newsworthy, the newsman comes & searches the crowd, our eyes for the delegate. One of us who can't wait to tell him before the heavily equipped one, one like a soldier, the cameraman, “It is a shame, he had his whole life ahead of him” or “He didn't…
Upstairs my husband types our wills, Pressing the keys with one finger. The sound makes eerie counterpoint, To all the birds, newly arrived. We have assigned our house and cats. We've looked at our insurance forms. The will must be typed perfectly. The drafts are growing at his feet. The typing stops, then starts again…
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