LITERATURES FROM THE WORLD

WORDS FROM IRELAND

June Caldwell – Upcycle: an account of some strange happenings on...

It is hardly worth telling, this story of mine, or at least in a modern context, because so many people go through the same...

Lauren Foley – Hot Rocks

Seaside village, North County Dublin, Ireland, 1993 Her first boyfriend used to kiss her after coffee and oranges. It was a strange taste. But she...

LATEST

FACING EAST

Alexander Shurbanov – The Circle Closes

Sea turtles thrive as coronavirus lockdowns empty nesting beaches, experts say. There, the infection thrust its mercury column into people’s hearts and they themselves barred their own doors against each other and one against all. Then men turned prisoners to...

Alexander Shurbanov – Waiting for Schliemann

Everything I’ve written has its whereabouts in spacetime. Not a word is invented, not a sound. If one day a Schliemann rakes the dust of the ages, Troy the unconquerable will surface such as it has been in actuality – with Hecuba chained to the...

What propels poetry into being is amazement: conversation with Alexander Shurbanov

I met Alexander Shurbanov in Sofia during the summer of 2016, on the occasion of a brief visit to the capital of Bulgaria connected with the publication of a collection of my poems by...

Alexander Shurbanov

Alexander Shurbanov (Sofia, 1941) is author of many books of poems and essays. He has translated into Bulgarian Chaucer’s The Canterbury Tales, Shakespeare’s mature tragedies, Milton’s Paradise Lost and Samson Agonistes, Rabindranath Tagore’s and...

Sotirios Pastakas – Babel

No, I don’t come from Eleusis. Southern Italy. Sandy returned from the Aegean rally in Nisyros. I found Yannis in 37 and he bought me a mojito. Mihos has reached the final stage of his glorious grieving. Akanthos...

Sotirios Pastakas

Sotirios Pastakas (born in Larissa, Thessaly, in 1954), studied medicine in Rome, a significant period for his training, and for thirty years he worked as a psychiatrist in Athens. He has published numerous collections...

THE STONE

Claire Loader – Qetesh

            A goddess sits at the end of my bed, visits these nights of waking. Where thoughts run more than fingers, hands wary of the divide. Instead we turn...