agonia english v3 |
Agonia.Net | Policy | Mission | Contact | Participate | ||||
Article Communities Contest Essay Multimedia Personals Poetry Press Prose _QUOTE Screenplay Special | ||||||
|
||||||
agonia Recommended Reading
■ Escapism
Romanian Spell-Checker Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2007-08-29 | |
Still thankful and amazed for the Long Island Sounds Anthology, I have news in my mail once again.
I have just received a beautiful, golden book from Marlow Peerse Weaver, the Seventh Volume of the ambitious project called "In Our Words: A Generation Defining Itself". Weaver says in the Foreword the following: "In the eight years this book of series has existed great changes have taken place. The bubbling optimism of economic and technical globalization, in the 1990's, has given way to bloody turf wars throughout the world. It is almost as if the nihilism that resurfaced with this generation was prophetic in its message `THERE IS NO FUTURE´. As a counterweight, though, this generation of the 1960's and the 1970's has matured into highly-skilled professionals, parents, leaders in public forums. It`s becoming their world to take, for the better, or for the worse." I would add that in spite of the hopelessness I also perceive a heavy spirituality, as though if there was a well-defined metaphysical sense and a also a clear search for non-visible realms and answers. Among hundreds of talented writers from all over the world, whose work is in this publication, I will only mention some of them such as: Lera Auerbach (Russia-USA), Anne Provoost (Belgium), Jenna Cardinale (USA), Kavita Jindal (UK), Bragi Ólafson (Iceland), Pilar Adón (Spain), Philip Ruthen (UK), Changming Yuan (Canada), Pablo Giordano (Argentina) and many, many others. I am pleased that my poem called "Crime Scene" was included in this Book, and for your enjoyment I will give you a short sample of the great works in this book, as follows: MY LIFE My mother imagined my life a color TV, its programs changeable with the touch of a button on a remote control. My father imagined my life a stage on which I could switch characters by the mere change of lights, makeup, hair and dress. I imagined my life a cocoon from which I longed to tear out, see my vibrant wings - even just once - beneath sunlight. Mandana Zandian Calabasas, CA, USA translated from Persian by Sholeh Wolpé CURLS FROM BEHIND Will I ever Track the in-going streaks Of eyes Flowing to flaming, Unabated word? Life so curly... and Love is a monologue at midnight Scurrying In swollen throbs Festooned in silence Marble and glass in your dialogue That grits and breaks Aloof, Aside of targeted longings Married to times Of half existence. Will I ever Track the in-going streaks Of eyes Flowing to the flaming Unabated word? Jamal Eddine Benhayoun Tetuan, Morocco SERPENS Once a serpent rose from the pole, now it`s turned into a shadow. The moon`s low-lying, the snows are reddening, a foxtailed light curls through the forest`s fur collar. The room was smaller before, now even hunger`s a fear. The one who once gave breath presses it lower now towards the snow, under the snow. A split in the dark, a studden gust, a bluish necklace, the sky`s pole. Tomi Kontio Helsinki, Finland from Tai vaan latvassa ("In the skytop", Tammi, 1998) Translated by Herbert Lomas CITIZEN born homeless born stateless both are places you are taught into until you nearly forget except in harsh dream cry that you were nearly lost to both. Philip Ruthen London, UK from NIGHT OF THE BLOOD recurrent dream one can mull over its main features the murder the lack of spatial or temporal coordinates the bitterness and ease of throwing off conventions the small force-field around the shoulders the disembodiment and flight the muck covering the faces the glue covering everything room 2 the dead lie in the room 2 on nice coloured beds their dreams go into the scarred belly of themachine in our ward there`s always a perfect balance between life and death so every Sunday we crawl down the hall to their room and sing to them Eugen Suman Bucharest, Romania Traslated by Rares Moldovan
|
||||||||
Home of Literature, Poetry and Culture. Write and enjoy articles, essays, prose, classic poetry and contests. | |||||||||
Reproduction of any materials without our permission is strictly prohibited.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Privacy and publication policy