Tag Archives: #turkey

Poem 55 in Solidarity: Here and There

by Karin Karakaşlı

Here and There

I’m taking the night ferry
a fat firefly
the coast a diamond necklace spread before me
sparkling here and there

In my dream
dressed in knives from head to toe
as I spun round
I cut whoever came near me
Each side was blood on steel
steel on blood
spurting here and there

I tried out all the words and then fell silent
I needed a new curse
words never spoken in vain
as old as the Stone Age
a cry
raging from here and there

This poem was translated by the Poetry Translation Centre translation workshop with a literal translation by Canan Marasligil. You can read the original,  the literal translation and more poems from this workshop on the Poetry Translation Centre’s website.

Karin Karakaşlı

Karin Karakaşlı

Karin Karakaşlı was born in Istanbul in 1972. She graduated in Translation and Interpreting Studies. From 1996 to 2006 she worked at the Turkish-Armenian weekly newspaper Agos as editor, head of the editorial department and columnist on both Turkish and Armenian pages. She has completed an M.A. in Comparative Literature, works as a translation instructor at the university and as a teacher of Armenian language and literature in an Armenian High School. She is currently a columnist at Agos and Radikal newspapers, and continues to write fiction and poetry.

Her books include a children’s novel called Ay Denizle Buluşunca (When the Moon Meets the Sea), short story collections Başka Dillerin Şarkısı (Song of Other Languages), and Can Kırıkları (Splinters of the Heart), works of poetry,Her Kimsen SANA (Whoever you are this is FOR YOU), a novel is Müsait Bir Yerde İnebilir Miyim? (Can I Get Out Somewhere You Don’t Mind?).

She is the co-writer of the research book Türkiye’de Ermeniler: Cemaat, Birey, Yurttaş (Armenians in Turkey: Community, Individual, Citizen).

Canan Marasligil

Canan Marasligil

Canan Marasligil is a freelance writer, literary translator, editor and screenwriter based in Amsterdam. Her focus is on contemporary Turkish literature and comics from countries like Turkey, Algeria and the UK. Canan was a translator in residence at the Free Word Centre in London in 2013 where she developed activities around translation, literature and freedom of expression. She is also co-curator of Istanbulles, the International Comics Festival of Istanbul, Web editor for the European Cultural Foundation’s Narratives for Europe project and author at Publie.Net (France). Detailed projects can be found on her website.

Poem 54 In Solidarity: Taksim

Helmuth A. Niederle


Wenn so eine Zeit kommt
in der das Aussprechen des freien Wortes
gefährlich wird
Wenn die Zeit gekommen ist
für Wasserwerfer, Tränengas und Schlagstöcke
Wenn so eine Zeit kommt
die Menschen von öffentlichen Plätzen vertreibt
Wenn die Zeit gekommen ist
in der Polizisten ordentlich
Jagd auf Demonstranten machen

wird es für die Machthaber gefährlich:
Es ist die Zeit gekommen
in der das Träumen verboten ist
und die Menschen erst recht zu träumen wagen!

Helmuth A. Niederle was born in Vienna and is a fiction writer, editor and poet. He contributed to “Catechism. Poems for Pussy Riot”. His last publication was “Trakt geräumt. verba in angustiis. Lyrik”. Helmuth A. Niederle lives in Vienna.

Poem 50 In Solidarity: तीन कविताहरु (Three Poems)

Durgalal Shrestha

तीन कविताहरु

तारमा अड्किएको चङ्गा झैँ
बेरिइरहनेछ मेरो आवाज
यो वायूमण्डलमा,
भोलि यो बाटो आउनेहरुलाई
सुनाइरहनेछ यसले मेरो कथा ।

कत्ति छैन चालचुल
न चलेकै छ पातपतिङ्गर,
मौन– सबका सब मौन Û
हैन, यो निदाएको हैन,
बरु हो– पर्खिँदापर्खिँदै
पर्खाइको पराकाष्ठामा पुगेको ।
घाम डुब्नै आँट्यो
मेरो जाने बेला भयो,
सम्झना Û
हिँड, सँगै जाउँ
फेरि यता
आइरहन नपरोस् मलाई ।

Three poems

Like a kite caught in wire
My voice will be enduring in space,
It will keep passing on my story
To the passersby for all time to come!

Everything is unmoving
Not even the crackle of leaves,
Silence… everything is quiet,
No, this is not a state of slumber,
Rather, it’s reaching the climax of wait
On the process of waiting.

The sun is about to set down
It’s time for me to go
My memory!
Come, let’s walk together
So that
I wouldn’t pass this way again.

Durgalal Shrestha

Durgalal Shrestha

Durgalal Shrestha has been writing since the early ‘50s and is a living legend of Nepali literature.

He has crafted a realm of poetry and fought on behalf of voiceless people. Durgalal’s works have been translated into many languages. He writes fluently in both his mother tongue Newar and Nepali language.He is also known as a songwriter.

Poem 47 In Solidarity: On Istiklal

by David Shook

On Istiklal

Mustache flecked with chicken pudding,
the ice cream trickster juggles scoops,
flips cones for tips,
never smiles.

Perched behind his analog scale,
the salesman invites my mass aboard,
a lira for my passage. Generous,
he rounds up, gifts me weight I have not earned.

The needle’s thin tongue trembles
when I lift my boot in explanation.
Today he’s weighed at least 400 kilos for
the chestnuts he’ll eat walking home.

The weight that’s crossed this city means I’m nothing.
Luxor’s obelisk re-righted with manpower and a plan,
a trough of lokum heavy like a coffin
but filled with sweeter meat.

For all I weigh, I weigh almost nothing,
I increase the earth’s gravitational pull
by an insignificant degree,
this street will not remember me.

Still: I will not be rounded up nor rounded down.

          Look! / Hey! / Dumb-cluck! / Chuck your twanging noise-box.
—Nâzim Hikmet

David Shook

David Shook

David Shook grew up in Mexico City before studying endangered languages in Oklahoma and poetry at Oxford. His debut collection of poems, Our Obsidian Tongues, was published by Eyewear Publishing in 2013. He has translated Roberto Bolaño’s Infrarealist manifesto, indigenous Mexican poetry from the Isthmus Zapotec, and oral poetry by the Burundian Batwa. He served as Translator in Residence at Britain’s Poetry Parnassus at The Southbank, in 2012. There he premiered his covertly shot documentary about Equatorial Guinean poet Marcelo Ensema Nsang. Shook lives in Los Angeles with his wife, the poet and pastor Syd Shook, where he edits Molossus and Phoneme Media. http://davidshook.net

Poem 46 In Solidarity:The Barbarians (Round Two) Hebrew,English, Turkish, French, Spanish, German, Greek, Japanese, Macedonian, Polish, Romanian, Chinese, Italian and Serbian.

by Amir Or

הַבַּרְבָּרִים: סִבּוּב שֵׁנִי

לֹא לַשָּׁוְא חִכִּינוּ לַבַּרְבָּרִים,
לֹא לַשָּׁוְא נִקְהַלְנוּ בְּכִכַּר הָעִיר.
לֹא לַשָּׁוְא עָטוּ גְּדוֹלֵינוּ אֶת בִּגְדֵי כְּבוֹדָם
וְשִׁנְּנוּ אֶת נְאוּמָם לִכְבוֹד הַמְּאֹרָע.
לֹא לַשָּׁוְא נִתַּצְנוּ מִקְדָּשֵׁינוּ
וּבָנִינוּ אֲחֵרִים לְאֵלֵיהֶם;
כַּדָּת שָׂרַפְנוּ אֶת סְפָרֵינוּ
אֲשֶׁר אֵין חֵפֶץ בָּם לָאֲנָשִׁים כָּאֵלֶּה.
כִּדְבַר הַנְּבוּאָה בָּאוּ הַבַּרְבָּרִים,
וְנָטְלוּ מִיַּד הַמֶּלֶךְ אֶת מַפְתְּחוֹת הָעִיר.
אַךְ בְּבוֹאָם עָטוּ לְבוּשׁ כִּלְבוּשׁ הָאָרֶץ,
וּמִנְהָגָם הָיָה מִנְהַג הַמְּדִינָה;
וְעֵת צִוּוּ עָלֵינוּ בִּלְשׁוֹנֵנוּ,
לֹא יָדַעְנוּ עוֹד מָתַי
בָּאוּ הַבַּרְבָּרִים.

The Barbarians (Round Two)

It was not in vain that we awaited the barbarians,
it was not in vain that we gathered in the city square.
It was not in vain that our great ones put on their official robes
and rehearsed their speeches for the event.
It was not in vain that we smashed our temples
and erected new ones to their gods;
as proper we burnt our books
that have nothing in them for people like that.
As the prophesy foretold, the barbarians came
and took the keys to the city from the king’s hand.
But when they came they wore the garments of the land,
and their customs were the customs of the state;
and when they commanded us in our own tongue
we no longer knew when
the barbarians had come to us.

Tr: Vivian Eden


Nafile değildi barbarları beklememiz
Nafile değildi şehir merkezinde toplanmamız
Büyüklerimizin resmi giysilerini kuşanmaları
Ve tören konuşmalarını çalışmaları nafile değil
Tapınaklarımızı yıkıp onların Tanrıları için tapınaklar dikmemiz de nafile değil
Olması gerektiği gibi yaktık kitaplarımızı
İçlerinde böylesi insanlar için hiç bir şey bulunmayan kitaplarımızı
Sonra kahanetin duyurduğu gibi barbarlar geldi
Şehrin anahtarını aldılar ve kralın kellesini
Ama onlar gelince toprağın kumaşlarını kuşandılar
Ve adetleri bizim devletin adetleriydi
Ve ne zaman ki bizim dilimizde emrettiler
Hiç bilmedik ondan sonra
Barbarlar ne zaman gelmişti bize

Tr: Neshe Yashin

Les barbares (deuxième round)

Ce n’est pas pour rien que nous avons attendu les barbares,
ce n’est pas pour rien que nous nous sommes réunis sur la place.
Ce n’est pas pour rien que nos notables ont revêtu leurs robes officielles
et répété leurs discours en prévision de l’événement.
Ce n’est pas pour rien que nous avons démoli nos temples
et en avons érigé de nouveaux pour leurs dieux ;
tout comme nous avons brûlé avec raison nos livres
qui n’ont rien à dire à des gens comme ça.
Comme annoncé dans la prophétie les barbares sont venus,
et ont reçu les clés de la cité des mains du roi.
Mais quand ils sont venus ils ont endossé les vêtements locaux
et leurs mœurs sont devenues celles du pays ;
et quand ils nous commandèrent dans notre propre langue
nous ne sûmes plus jamais quand
les barbares étaient venus vers nous.

Tr: Aurelia Lassaque

Los Bárbaros (Segundo Round)

No fue en vano que esperáramos a los bárbaros
no fue en vano que nos reuniéramos en la plaza de la ciudad.
No fue en vano que nuestros grandes hombres lucieran sus trajes de gala
y que ensayaran sus discursos para la ocasión.
No fue en vano que destruyéramos nuestros templos
y que erigiéramos otros para sus dioses;
quemamos nuestros libros como era debido
ya que no ofrecían nada para ellos.
Como auguró la profecía, llegaron los bárbaros
y recibieron las llaves de la ciudad de las manos del rey.
Pero cuando llegaron se vistieron con las prendas de nuestra tierra,
y sus costumbres eran las costumbres del Estado;
cuando ellos nos dieron órdenes en nuestro idioma
ya no supimos cuándo habían llegado los bárbaros.

Tr: Karla Coreas

Die Barbaren, zweite Runde

Nicht umsonst warteten wir auf die Barbaren,
nicht umsonst versammelten wir uns am Hauptplatz.
Nicht umsonst kleideten sich unsere Honoratioren in ihre Ehrenkleider
und studierten ihre Rede anlässlich des Ereignisses.
Nicht umsonst zerstörten wir unsere Tempel
und bauten andre für ihre Götter;
dem Gebot nach verbrannten wir unsere Bücher,
in denen solche Menschen keinen Nutzen sehen.
Wie prophezeit kamen die Barbaren,
und nahmen von des Königs Hand die Stadtschlüssel.
Aber als sie kamen, trugen sie die Landeskleider,
und ihre Bräuche waren die Landesbräuche;
und als sie uns in unserer Sprache Befehle erteilten,
wussten wir nicht mehr, wann
die Barbaren gekommen waren.

Tr: Michael Sternheimer

Οι βάρβαροι (Δεύτερη φορά)

Τους βαρβάρους δεν τους περιμέναμε άδικα·
Στην αγορά δέ συναθροιστήκαμε άδικα.
Δεν ήταν άδικα που ύπατοι και πραίτορες τις τόγες φόρεσαν
και λόγους έγραψαν γι’αυτόν τον ερχομό.
Δεν ήταν άσκοπο που τους ναούς κατεδαφίσαμε,
άλλους, στους δικούς τους θεούς για να κτίσουμε,
κι ορθώς στις φλόγες ρίξαμε τα βιβλία μας,
που τίποτα δε γράφουνε γι’ανθρώπους σαν κι’αυτούς.
Όπως τό’χε πει η προφητεία, οι βάρβαροι ήλθαν
κι έλαβαν της πόλεως τα κλειδιά από τον αυτοκράτορα.
Όμως με το που ήλθαν, έβαλαν ενδύματα όπως της χώρας
κι οι συνήθειες τους ήσαν όμοιες μ’αυτές του τόπου·
κι όταν πια στη δική μας γλώσσα έδιναν τις διαταγές τους,
ούτε που ήξερε πλέον κανείς να πει, πότε
ήλθαν σε μας οι βάβαροι.

Tr: Tania Demetriou


蛮人たち (第二ラウンド)

もうわからなくなる いつ

Tr: Yuka Tsukagoshi

ВАРВАРИТЕ (ВТОРА РУНДА)Не беше попусто што ги чекавме варварите,
не беше попусто што се собравме на градскиот плоштад.
Не беше попусто што нашите првенци ги облекоа свечените рува
и ги вежбаа свечените говори подготвени за настанот.
Не беше попусто што си ги срушивме храмовите
и кренавме нови во чест на нивните богови.
Како што е редот, ги запаливме нашите книги
што не содржеа ништо за луѓе како нив.
Пророштвото се исполни и варварите стасаа,
ги зедоа градските клучеви од раката на царот.
Но штом стасаа тие се облекоа во градски рува,
обичаи им станаа обичаите на земјата,
а кога почнаа да ни заповедаат на нашиот јазик
повеќе не знаевме
кога тоа варварите стасале меѓу нас.

Tr: Хелена Берг и Фиона Сампсон

Barbarzyńcy (Runda Druga)

Nie na próżno czekaliśmy na barbarzyńców,
nie na próżno staliśmy na placu.
Nie na próżno nasi oratorzy nakładali togi,
pilnie ćwicząc stosowne przemowy.
Nie na próżno w gruzach legły świątynie,
by dać miejsce bogom, co przyjdą.
Słuszne było, że księgi spłonęły,
bo ich mądrość nie dla takich jak oni.
Jak głosili prorocy, barbarzyńcy przybyli,
a król wręczył im klucze do miasta.
A kiedy przybyli, oblekli się w szaty tej ziemi,
i obyczaj ich stał się majestatem prawa.
I gdy w naszym języku wydali rozkazy,
na wieki opuściła nas pamięć,
kiedy barbarzyńcy przybyli.

Tr: Beata Tarnowska

BARBARII (Runda a doua)

Nu în zadar am aşteptat barbarii,
nu în zadar ne-am adunat în piaţa cetăţii.
Nu în zadar şi-au vopsit mai marii noştri robele
nu în zadar şi-au pregatit discursurile dinainte.
Nu în zadar am distrus templele noastre
şi-am înălţat altele pentru zeii lor;
am ars, după cuviinţă, cărţile
în care nimic nu era scris pentru oameni ca ei.
Aşa cum spunea profeţia, barbarii au venit,
au luat din mâna regelui cheia cetăţii.
Dar cum au venit s-au îmbrăcat în veşmintele locului,
obiceele lor au fost ale acestei ţări;
apoi au rostit poruncile în limba noastră
şi atunci noi n-am mai ştiut
venirea barbarilor oare când să fi fost.

Tr:Ioana Ieronim

野蛮人/ 阿米尔•欧尔,蔡天新译


TR: Cai Taxin

I barbari (secondo round)

Non abbiamo aspettato i barbari in vano
non ci siamo riuniti nelle piazze in vano.
I nostri grandi non hanno indossato i loro abiti ufficiali
e in vano hanno provato i loro discorsi per l’evento.
Non abbiamo mandato in frantumi i nostri templi
e in vano ne abbiamo eretto dei nuovi per i loro Dei;
come dovuto abbiamo bruciato i nostri libri
che non contenevano nulla per gente come quella.
Come predetto i barbari sono venuti,
e hanno preso le chiavi della città dalle mani del re.
Ma quando sono arrivati hanno indossato gli abiti locali,
e i loro costumi erano i costumi dello stato;
e quando ci hanno dato comandi nella nostra lingua
non sapevamo più quando da noi
i barbari fossero venuti.

Tr: Mena Savore

Nismo uzalud čekali varvare,
Nismo se uzalud okupili na gradskom trgu.
Nisu uzalud naši velikani odenuli odore
i uvežbavali govore za tu priliku.
Nismo uzalud srušili naše hramove
i podigli nove za njihove bogove;
spalivši usput sve naše knjige
jer u njima nema ničega za takve ljude.
U skladu sa proročanstvom, stigli su varvari
I uzeli ključeve grada iz kraljevih ruku.
Ali kada su došli, nosili su odeću iz ovih krajeva
I imali običaje iste kao što su naši;
a kada su počeli da zapovedaju na našem jeziku,
mi više nismo znali kada su
varvari došli kod nas.

Tr: David Albahari

Amir Or Photo: Gerald Zörner

Amir Or
Photo: Gerald Zörner

AMIR OR is the author of 11 volumes of poetry in Israel and 13 volumes in Europe and America. His poems have been published in more than 40 languages. He is the recipient of several poetry prizes, among them Levi Eshkol Prime Minister’s Prize, Fulbright Award for Writers, Bernstein Prize, and Oeneumi Poetry Prize.

Or has been awarded fellowships of the University of Iowa, the University of Oxford, and the Heinrich Boll Foundation among others. His translations into Hebrew, include The Gospel of Thomas and Anthology of Erotic Greek Poetry. For his translations he received the Minister of Culture Prize.

Or studied philosophy and comparative religion at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, and lectured there on Ancient Greek Religion. He has taught creative writing in Israel, Europe and US. In 1990 he founded Helicon Society. He has been Editor-in-Chief of Helicon’s journal and poetry books and set up the Arabic-Hebrew Poetry School. Or is a member of the World Poetry Movement stirring committee and of the European Association of Writing Programs.

He serves as national coordinator of the U.N.-sponsored Poets for Peace and as national editor for the international poetry magazines Atlas and Blesok. He is editor of Catuv poetry series.

Poem 40 In Solidarity: A Story (in English,Turkish,German,Italian,French)

Jeffrey Kahrs

A Story

I held my tongue till I couldn’t taste anything.
It wasn’t always like this.
I hoped for the rise of tolerant reason
from behind the shadows of guns.
But the government began erasing
any word that didn’t come from
their dictionary. I waited and fed
as they gave us token morsels.
Beside, who else was there to believe in?
Then their billy clubs bashed in heads
and pepper gas billowed like great sails.
It was brutal. But at least the wind began
in tears and my tongue regained its feeling.
I could taste the chanting voices.
Who expects miracles? I don’t,
but this was my chance to let go
of my tongue. I have done this.

Bir Oyku

Hic bir seyin tadini alamayana kadar dilimi tuttum
hep boyle degildi
hosgorulu bir anlayis yukselir diye umdum
silahlarin golgesinin arkasindan
sonra silmeye basladilar
kendi sozluklerinden gelmeyen
her sozu. bekledim ve yuttum
bize verdikleri kirintilari
baska ne vardi ki inanacak?
sonra joplari kafalarda patladi
biber gazlari dev yelkenler gibi kabardi
acimasizdi. ama en azindan ruzgar basladi
gozyaslarinda ve yeniden hissettim dilimi
tadabiliyordum kalabaliktan yukselen sesleri
kim mucize bekler ? ben degil.
bu benim dilimi cozme sansimdi. iste ben bunu yaptim.

Eine Geschichte

Ich hielt den Mund bis meine Zunge nichts mehr
schmeckte. Es war nicht immer so.
Ich dachte, aus dem Schatten der Kanonen
könnten Vernunft und Toleranz neu erstehen.
Dann begann die Regierung jedes Wort
auszuradieren, das in ihrem Lexikon
nicht vorkam. Ich war geduldig, verteilte Happen
von Freiheit die sie uns mit Nachdruck gaben.
War außer mir noch jemand so naiv?
Dann kamen sie mit Schlagstöcken, prügelten
auf Köpfe, der Qualm von Tränengas war überall.
Brutal. Doch schließlich begann die Zukunft
mit den Tränen, ich spürte meine Zunge wieder,
schmeckte den Gesang der Stimmen.
Erwartet jemand noch ein Wunder? Ich nicht,
aber ich habe die Gelegenheit, meiner Zunge
freien Lauf zu lassen. Ich habe es getan.

Tr: Hans Thill

Una storia

Ho trattenuto la mia lingua fino a non sentire piú i sapori.
Non é sempre stato cosí.
Ho sperato che la ragione tollerante fuoriuscisse
da dietro le ombre delle pistole.
Poi il governo ha cominciato a cancellare ogni parola
che non fosse nel suo vocabolario. Ho aspettato e ingoiato
mentre ci davano simbolici bocconi di libertá.
Chi altro ci crederá?
Poi i loro manganelli hanno spaccato teste
e il fumo del gas urticante al pepe sembrava dappertutto.
É stato brutale. Ma almeno il futuro é cominciato
in lacrime e la mia lingua ha riacquistato sensibilitá.
Potevo assaporare le voci e gli slogan.
Chi si aspetta il miracolo? Io no.
Ma questa é un’occasione per liberare la mia lingua e l’ho fatto.

Tr: Anna Valerio

J’ai tenu ma langue, jusqu’à ne plus pouvoir goûter quoi que ce soit.
Ce n’était pas toujours comme ça.
J’avais l’espoir que la tolérance raisonnée puisse grandir
derrière l’ombre des fusils.
Mais le gouvernement a commencé à effacer
tous les mots qui ne venaient pas
de son dictionnaire. J’ai attendu, et je me suis nourri
des miettes de liberté qu’ils nous donnaient.
Et d’ailleurs, en qui d’autre aurais-je pu croire ?
Et puis leurs matraques ont cognés nos têtes
et la fumée des gaz lacrymogènes semblait flotter partout.
C’était brutal. Mais au moins, l’avenir est né
dans les larmes et ma langue a retrouvé son sens du goût.
Je pouvais goûter les voix qui chantaient.
Qui s’attend à des miracles ? Pas moi,
mais c’est ma chance de donner sa liberté
à ma langue. Et ceci, je l’ai fait.

Tr: Dominique Blachon

Jefrrey Kahrs

Jefrrey Kahrs

Jeff Kahrs was born in the Hague, Netherlands, and was raised in California. He received a B.A. in Dramatic Literature from U.C. Santa Cruz and an M.A. from Boston University, where he studied with Derek Walcott and Leslie Epstein. He worked for many years as a commercial fisherman in Alaska.

From 1993 to 2011 he lived in Istanbul, where he worked primarily as a teacher. While living there he co-edited an issue of the Atlanta Review on poetry in Turkey, was published in Subtropics, mediterranean.nu. He also co-edited, with Başak Ergil, a section of the Turkish magazine Çevirmenin Nötu on English-language poets in Istanbul.

He recently finished writing a history of the Deep Sea Fishermen’s Union of the Pacific to celebrate their 100th anniversary, and the translations he did with Hatice Ören of Gülten Akın were published this year at the 5th Annual Nazim Hikmet Poetry Festival in Cary, North Carolina.

After living and working in Istanbul for almost 20 years, he is currently residing in Seattle,U.S.A.

Poem 38 in Solidarity: Para as insurrectas/os turcos (For the Insurgent Women of Turkey)

By Chus Pato

Para as insurrectas/os turcos 

miles pisando as rúas
as prazas os parques da Terra
Que as palabras sexan a poeira erguida
os pés que latexan na liberdade do planeta
Comeza de novo a grande saúde
a maior virtude
e más ledo saber
na cunca da mao
parque Gezi
fronteira franca
Unha era dá cabo de si
Se es bala organizas o campo
Isto sucede agora
cando ti o les
Permanentemente psíquicos
os corpos

For the Insurgent Women of Turkey
 (translated by Erín Moure from Galician)

thousands on foot in the streets
in the squares the parks of the earth
May these words be rising dust
feet that beat in the freedom of the planet
may superb health break out anew
the highest virtue
and happiest knowledge
Close by
in the cup of the hand
Gezi Park
a clear line drawn
An era ushers itself to an end
is fulfilled
If you’re a bullet you organize the countryside
This happens now
while you’re reading
Permanently psychic

Chus Pato

Chus Pato

Chus Pato (Galicia, 1955) has published ten books of poems: Urania (Ourense: Calpurnia, 1991), Heloísa (A Coruña: Espiral Maior, 1994), Fascinio (Muros: Toxosoutos, 1995), Nínive (Vigo: Edicións Xerais, 1996), A ponte das poldras (Santiago de Compostela: Noitarenga, 1996; 2ª ed.: Vigo: Galaxia, 2006), m-Talá (Vigo: Edicións Xerais, 2000), Charenton (Vigo: Edicións Xerais, 2003), Hordas de escritura (Vigo: Edicións Xerais, 2008), Secesión ( Vigo: Galaxia, 2009) and Carne de leviatán (Vigo: Galaxia, 2013). Four of her books have appeared in English, translated by Erín Moure: From m-Talá (Vancouver: Nomados, 2003, selected from m-Talá, 2000), Charenton (Exeter & Ottawa: Shearsman Books & BuschekBooks, 2007), m-Talá (Exeter & Ottawa: Shearsman Books & BuschekBooks, 2009), and Hordes of Writing (Exeter & Ottawa, Shearsman Books & BuschekBooks, 2011). Secession is currently in translation. Nínive was awarded the Losada Diéguez Prize; Hordas de escritura received the Spanish National Critics’ Prize and the Losada Diéguez. She has given readings all over Europe, as well as in Morocco, Argentina, and Canada.

Erín Moure  is a translator from French, Spanish, Galician, and Portuguese and the author of fourteen books of poetry. She has received the Governor General’s Award, the Pat Lowther Memorial Award, the A. M. Klein Prize, and has been a three-time finalist for the Griffin Poetry Prize. She lives in Montreal. Visit Erín Moure’s blog for her book The Unmemntioablehttp://unmemntioable.wordpress.com/Visit