bíonn tú do do lámhach féin de shíor – lámhach mise: cearc fraoigh ag scréachaíl you are constantly shooting yourself – shoot me: a moorhen shrieks 猊下（あなた）はいつも こめかみに銃口―わたしを撃ってと 水鳥の悲鳴 * cuir piléar tríd an gceann seo an croí, an t-anam:…
Two poems from women’s world Silence Does my silence Fill the gaps Where your fingers poked holes Into your beautiful being? Does it alleviate your pain your sorrow your guilt? Then I will be silent. Does my silence Ooze out…
GERMAIN DROOGENBROODT (edited by) AS YET UNBORN Oh to be Adam again with all his ribs yearning for a woman as yet unborn, mouth free of the taste of apples, ears without the hiss of snakes, mindless of nakedness and…
Enclosed Fields Over beyond the cliff I can see enclosed fields head over heels. Were it not for the sheep ensconced there, pressing down like paper weights, they would be as leaves swept away into nothingness When my name you…
GERMAIN DROOGENBROODT (edited by) She wept in the morning She wept at noon She wept in the evening At morning she lost a son At noon she lost another At evening she lost the last of family In the next…
From the preface of Muhammad Schanazar, Pakistani poet: Maria Miraglia is an Italian Poetess. Thanks to the modern technology I had the opportunity to go through her poems and I was deeply impressed by her thoughts, the sensitive nature of…
War poems by Harris Khalique The magician and the boy from Waziristan It was a stony winter morning covered in mist. The half-awake magician answered the hurried knock at the front door. The boy, covered in dust and smell, carried…
