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posts-issue8 Tag

—for the refugees, lost in the crossing 1. this is the transcript of after saying, Arise the boat                             not bodies   not                                           not the first such find  cannot                                    scribe   SHARE their journey floating at sea we do not know and cry against it communi not      fall within   in                        capacity   bodies wearing journey and swaying 

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"David Adjaye's Trash" by Dala Nasser (Details) Translated from Chinese by Jeffrey Thomas Leong My petition denied already half a year with no further news. Who knew that today, I would be deported back           to Tang Mountain? At mid-ship, I’ll suffer waves, and pearl-like tears will fall. On a clear night, three times I’ll find the bitterness hard to bear.   清   船   誰   批 夜   中   知   消 三   捱   今   半 思   浪   日   載 苦   珠   撥   無 難   淚   回   消 堪   落   唐   息  。   ;   ?  

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"Anzali Port" by Milad Karamooz 1. Wind Today Jenin flooded, pond turned sea, dissolved horizon, and children made a boat of foam and twine, let wind catch sail      and chart toward      a place that would accept a child of no passport  2. Earth Children of the Jordan Valley crowned me in poppies, braceleted me in catkins and anemone blooms, made me double necklaces of daisies. How the desert blossoms. How children in grief open the way nature lifts petals to light, again and again and again never ceasing to amaze bees and earth  3. Fire Settlers set fire to the olive trees again, their seasonal protest, their terror among the peace bows. Again

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"Cirque du Liban" by Ieva Saudargaité (for Kazi H. Shehabi)       Every alighting is an ode to the past though the field of poppies on the poet’s book didn’t rinse morning’s wet out of her eyes. It was the time she was living in that did; the doe tossed open in the backyard; a coyote had disrobed her delicate ribs,   the elm beside the culvert swale deciphered the scene, like a detective’s gloved hand that offered no respite.  The earth had retraced its voice away from rain so she stopped gazing at the ground and crammed                her drought into the sky. Her father had died the summer before— On snapchat, Hajj pilgrims frisked her

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"Augmented Geometries" by Chloé Hojeily for Jalal Dhiyab Thijeel When it is night enough to uncoil Nas from your pocket radio, you slip him into the hush of a classroom— its cluster of small seats flooded with rainwater the color of an oiled moon. From the window, two men you do not see, lift the edges of their dishdashas like brides afraid of dirtying their dress, wait  for the flicker of classroom lights, for the dark that will drink the rocking shouts.  Your fast and quiet blood, thinned with water, pools under the dust of the streetlamp, the static hum; they step over and leave you to be found. 

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"Moonstruck Blocks" by Blocksfinj by Yeşim Özsoy, translated from Turkish by Buğra Giritlioğlu (with the help of Daniel Scher) i’m swimming in a sea charged with silence. unaware of the sediments in my body, imagining i’ll reach some place, in the certitude of a sea’s vast body which cannot be boxed up and shrunk, in a sea, forever bereft of color, with my small dream boxes, never concealed, i miss the boundlessness of a dream. i succumbed and shrank as tiny ants writhing before a wild wind, in a sea’s colorless, silent comfort with a longing for nothing but love and in return for pagefuls of tears i sold my boxes. with the shame

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"All Good Things" by Basir Mahmood dates from Baghdad's airport fatly nested in paper sleeves all that city's sweetness in our stomachs far away     not there chew another before the first is swallowed and look to the sea! look away from the sea!     sunlight                on paper face sunlight                on telephone wire sunlight                a puddle    this ocean to nowhere [where once i saw a turtle and never again] sunlight ceiling of orthodox blue of pressed powder of spilled ink how? the tiny window with its tiny colors and child's hand i

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"Plasticity" by Sandra Ghosn ​وأدرك شهرزادَ الصباحُ وانشقّ الفجر فسكتت عن الكلام المباح…. صونًا لجسدها المستباح. وقالت أختها دينارزاد يا أختاه ما أغرب حديثك وما أطيبه. فقالت شهرزاد وما هذا ممّا سأحدّثكم به الليلة المقبلة إنْ عشتُ وأبقاني الملك…. ولكن على عكس اللّيالي الأخرى، في هذه الليلة الملك شهريار قد اشتغل سرّه إلى درجة أنه لم يعد يستطع كتمان فضوله فثار ثورة عارمة عندما سمع شهرزاد تختم حديثها، غير أنّها أبتْ إكمال الحديث بعد طلوع الضوء قائلة إنّ الليل وحده قادر على حفظ أسرار حكاياتها وإنّ النهار سيُفسدها لكن كاد الملك يطير عقله وتوعّد شهرزاد بضرب عنقها إن لم تُكمل.  وإذا بدينارزاد تتدخّل مناشدة

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لوسيل كليفتون ترجمت من الانكليزية بقلم هبا أحمد if there is a rivermore beautiful than thisbright as the bloodred edge of the moon          if there is a rivermore faithful than thisreturning each monthto the same delta          if there is a riverbraver than thiscoming and coming in a surgeof passion, of pain          if there is a rivermore ancient than thisdaughter of evemother of cain and of abel          if there is in the universe such a river          ifthere is some where watermore powerful than this wildWaterpray that it flows alsothrough animalsbeautiful and faithful and ancientand female and brave إذا كان ثمة نهرأكثر جمالًامن هذا

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"Exit of Farhad and Shirin" by Babak Kazemi كاڨوه أكبر، ترجمت من الانكليزية بقلم سلفي الحلو ريحانة جباري هي فتاة إيرانية كانت في السادسة والعشرين من عمرها عندما تمّ شنقها في ٢٥ من تشرين الأول،٢٠١٤ بسبب قتلها لرجلٍ كان يحاول اغتصابها.  الجسد مسجد مُستعار من الجنّة      قرون الزَّمَنِتُلطِّخُ الطُّوب المزجّج       وجِلدُنا يحتكُّ كشَظيّةوسطَ ساعة رمليّة    أحيانًا أشعرُ بالعار  من إحساسي كم هو عديم الأهميّة      الملائكة لا يهمُّها الحياءأنت حلقتِ رأسك     قضيتِ أحد عشر يومًا جائعةً في الانفراديّةوما من مَلاكٍ بكى في نشيد      وها الوِحدةُ تعُمُّ المكان لقد غدوتُ

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