August 2012
3 tags
Poetry as a cemetery. A cemetery of faces, hands, gestures. A cemetery of...
– Anna Kamienska, Industrious Amazement: A Notebook (translated by Clare Cavanagh)
July 2012
2 tags
Four talked about the pine tree. One defined it by genus, species, and variety....
– Dan Pagis, “Conversation” (translated by Stephen Mitchell)
2 tags
Now and then, I remember you in times
Unbelievable. And in places not made for...
– Yehuda Amichai, from “Little Ruth” (translated by Benjamin Harshav and Barbara Harshav)
1 tag
4 tags
And as we stray further from love
we multiply the words,
words and sentences...
– Yehuda Amichai, from “Quick and Bitter” (translated by Assia Gutmann)
2 tags
5 tags
Night. Heavenly delicious sweet night of the desert that calls all of us out to...
– Leslie Marmon Silko, The Turquoise Ledge
4 tags
Where there’s gloom—there’s a radiance, all the world is...
– Elena Shvarts, from “Elegies on the Cardinal Points” (translated by Michael Molnar)
6 tags
teresabanks:
Chimamanda Adichie: The Danger of a Single Story
2 tags
There’s nothing as dear as the sight of ruins.
– Joseph Brodsky, from “Roman Elegies”
4 tags
My birthday began with the water-
Birds and the birds of the winged trees...
– Dylan Thomas, from “Poem in October”
13 tags
4 tags
I’m going to write. That’s what I see beyond the present moment, in...
– Marguerite Duras, The Lover (translated by Barbara Bray)
5 tags
I asked him to do it again and again. Do it to me. And he did, did it in the...
– Marguerite Duras, The Lover (translated by Barbara Bray)
3 tags
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Dread of night. Dread of not-night.
– Franz Kafka, The Blue Octavo Notebooks (translated by Ernst Kaiser and Eithne Wilkins)
4 tags
4 tags
scent of earth,
my lost childhood.
– Antonia Pozzi, from “Scent of Green” (translated by Nicholas Benson)
2 tags
I hear the wind blow,
And I feel that it was worth being born just to hear the...
– Fernando Pessoa, from “Uncollected Poems” (translated by Richard Zenith)
6 tags
I thought of you
after sunset
in a darkened street
when a pane fell to the...
– Antonia Pozzi, from “Reflections” (translated by Nicholas Benson)
I go,
dreaming of those buried
in orchards and vineyards,
and I remember...
– Adonis, from “Elegy for the Time at Hand” (translated by Samuel Hazo)
the dead are gentle to us
we carry them on our shoulders
sleep under the same...
– Zbigniew Herbert, from “Our Fear” (translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Peter Dale Scott)
3 tags
write, write or die.
– H.D., from “Red Rose and a Beggar”
5 tags
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means...
– Franz Kafka, The Blue Octavo Notebooks (translated by Ernst Kaiser and Eithne Wilkins)
2 tags
Happiness is in the quiet, ordinary things. A table, a chair, a book with a...
– Virginia Woolf, The Waves (via fuckyeahvirginiawoolf)
6 tags
5 tags
Four or five stories, soft as clouds, changing shape as I watch them. The form...
– Mavis Gallant, from a diary entry written in May 1959 (via The New Yorker)
3 tags
I remember my first birth in water. All round me a sulphurous transparency and...
– Anaïs Nin, House of Incest
1 tag