Posts filed under 'prose poem'

Weekly Dispatches From the Frontlines of World Literature

The latest from the Latinx, Greek, and Filipino literary worlds!

This week, our editors direct us towards the profound and plentiful artistic productions emerging from border crossings, diverse encounters, and cross-genre interpretations. From a festival celebrating multicultural writings, novel adaptations of classic canons, and the newly elected fellows to a prestigious international residency, these developments in world literature remind us that within the schematics of difference, shared passions grow and proliferate to create unities.

Alan Mendoza Sosa, Editor-at-Large, reporting from the United States

Between June 21 and 23, Hispanic and U.S. literary enthusiasts gathered in San Francisco for the International Flor y Canto Literary Festival. Originally founded by Latinx poet Alejandro Murguia, acclaimed poet and professor at San Francisco State University, this year’s lineup featured a diverse variety of poetry readings, literary workshops, and movie screenings—all open to the public. Participants included Latinx and Mexican writers, poets, and directors dealing with topics such as identity, multiculturalism, language, and resistance. Most of the events took place at the legendary Medicine for Nightmare bookstore, a unique promoter of Latin American and Latinx literature in San Francisco.

One of the most exciting events was a poetry workshop led by the Mexican poet Minerva Reynosa. Titled “¿Quieres escribir pero te sale espuma?” (Do you want to write a poem but only foam comes out?), the workshop encouraged new writers to try out different techniques to overcome writer’s block. In another event, Reynosa read from her most recent book, Iremos que te pienso entre las filas y el olfato pobre de un paisaje con borrachos o ahorcados. The collection portrays life around the Mexico-U.S. border in the nineties, told from the perspective of a bicultural family dealing with gender violence. The works in the book are long poems of mostly short unrhymed verses, using colloquialisms endemic to the north of Mexico, in a fast paced and highly rhythmic prosody. They also include fragments from songs by the iconic Latinx singer Selena. In her reading, Reynosa usually sings these musical portions, highlighting the sonic elements in the poems and their cultural significance. READ MORE…

Translation Tuesday: “10 February 2020” by Dmitry Gerchikov

War isn’t easy. / War is inevitable.

Poetry, in dark times, must record and resist. This Translation Tuesday, read Russian poet Dmitry Gerchikov’s response to a Penza court’s high profile sentencing of eleven men for allegedly participating in an anti-government anarchist organisation known as Network—a group widely regarded as non-existent and fictitious. Proceeding through an obsessive adherence to the reportage of numerical data points, Gerchikov stretches the language of factuality and neutrality to accommodate the absurd. In Lena Tsykynovska’s translation, Gerchikov’s protest poem against the banality of state violence and the state’s manipulative use of language is conveyed to chilling effect.

“In a 2019 essay about an imaginary action consisting of walking around Moscow wearing a mask of Putin, Dmitry Gerchikov wrote: “Art is what happens right now, but writing is always in the past, especially poetry. Poetry is always running late to reality.” “10 February 2020” was only two months late to reality, published in April 2020. The Network group that appears in the first line of the poem are eleven young men accused of participating in an anti-government terrorist anarchist organization, seven of whom, on 10 February 2020, were given long prison sentences. Many believe that the evidence against the defendants was falsified, and extracted through torture. 

One moment in the poem I could not translate within the poem proper was: “Mark Fisher is not a lion.” When I first sent him the translation, the author pointed out to me that the lion was also a play on the word for “left.” We decided to convey that information in this note. I also was not able to translate the fact that, toward the end of the poem—“I am still in love”—the speaker gestures to herself as female, by using the feminine form of the verb.

Thanks to Dima and to many other poets in Russia for their solidarity with Ukraine.”

Lena Tsykynovska

10 February 2020

10  February 2020, the day of the sentencing of the Network group the average speed of the wind was 8 m/s. The day was 9 hours and 15 minutes long. The sun rose at 08:06.

According to a calendar called “A Calendar For Gardeners” it was a good day for gathering crops suitable for drying. The moon was in Virgo, which is the optimal time to do some bookkeeping, and promises healthy digestion. 

As noted by RIA news: “Comrade Beria lost his trust, so comrade Malenkov gave him some kicks.
Him some kicks.
Him some kicks.”

The magnetic field was calm. Barometric pressure was measured at 739mm. By 15:00 humidity had dropped to 70%.

A third world war is inevitable. Life is difficult. Sunset is at 17:22. We have fused together like a swastika and a star. A swastika and a star.
A swastika and a star.
Life is inevitable.

“The police wear big round caps, because they are forbidden to look at god’s sky, at god’s sky, at god’s sky by an order issued on 4 February 1999. So if they try to surround you, you should jump as high as you can, because then they’ll only be able to see your shoes, and won’t remember your face.
Won’t remember your face
Won’t remember your face.” READ MORE…