By Lesyk Panasiuk
Translated By Katie Farris & Ilya Kaminsky
O the accordion of a municipal bus!
your insides
are expanding with our silence which
we take from …
your insides
are expanding with our silence which
we take from …
Explore Poems: Melancholy & Despair
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- By Shara Lessleyice in the grass of want:
queen of leaf-
rot, I’ve let go— - By Lesyk PanasiukАкордеоне тролейбуса
твої міхи повні
нашого мовчання
що веземо з дому на роботу
з роботи додому
Мо… - By Mark WaldronI don’t want to say
things were indescribably
bad exactly
but things were
indescribably bad exactly… - By Abner Dormiendokung saan ako dinala ng aking mga paa,
latak ng alaalang nililigaw ako
na parang engkanto,
na parang… - By Abner DormiendoTranslated By Ethan ChuaI was dragged to by my feet,
memories misled me
with their leavings, an engkanto
made my native … - By Courtney KampaIt’s an hour before noon, and Amtrak train no. 56 rips a path
through the rain outside Baltimore,
its … - By Shann Rayi . sorrow is the curved ribcage of a beautiful death,
- By Kim OkTranslated By Ryan Choii
Sonorous music for voice— I hear
a short but elegiac,
pained
melody— for long discarded
dreams of a simple… - By Kim Ok울려 나오는 악성의
느리고도 짧은
애닯은 곡조에
나의 사라진 옛 꿈은
그윽하게 살아
내 가슴 아파라.
설움 가득한 악성의
빠르고도 더딘
애닯은 곡조에
뒤숭숭한 그 생각은
고요하… - By Nakahara Chūya汚れつちまつた悲しみに
今日も小雪の降りかかる
汚れつちまつた悲しみに
今日も風さへ吹きすぎる
汚れつちまつた悲しみは
たとへば狐の革裘
汚れつちまつた悲しみは
小雪のかかつてちぢこまる
汚れつ… - By Aaron ShurinThe gates, the gardens, the windows, the sky, the ledge of bricks, the fallen leaves, the porch where…
- By Nakahara ChūyaTranslated By Jeffrey AnglesOn this bit of soiled sadness
The flurries fall again today
Through this bit of soiled sadness
The wind… - By bruno daríoNi un día más allá la maleza cubrirá nuestros monumentos. La arquitectura reemplazada por otra furiosa…
- By bruno daríoTranslated By Kit SchluterBefore even one day has passed in the beyond, the weeds will cover our monuments. Our architecture …
- By Heidi WilliamsonYou’re fifteen and nowhere in a town on the edge of pitiful lands stripped of fruit. The burger van’…
- By Shara McCallumPain enters through an open window
and you say it is the wind.
It marrows into beams, gutters
walls. Still… - By Sarah Burgoynei say child but what i mean is now
still preferring the moss lawn to the
“superior” grass lawn my parents… - By Robert Browning1.My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch… - By James JoyceI heard their young hearts crying
Loveward above the glancing oar
And heard the prairie grasses sighing…