Day 10 #TheSealeyChallenge: Cattle of the Lord, by Rosa Alice Branco, tr. by Alexis Levitin.
From Savings Bank: “I follow the numbers that lead to you./The rosary of bones tells this love/that does not fit within my hands.”
Day 9 #TheSealeyChallenge: She Says by Venus Khoury-Ghata 📚
“He shakes her so she’ll drop the words she stole
makes her break her engagement to the maple tree
attaches her to the same leash as a goat and four-leave clover
then sets her free in compensation”
Day 8 #sealeychallenge: Factory Of Tears, by Valzhyna Mort.
This is from “Berlin-Minsk:”
It’s not a lump in the throat
that’s made you mute.
This is how brutally,
this is how tight
heart climbs out of the mouth
and strains eyesight.
Day 7 #sealeychallenge: Other Side River, eds. Leza Lowitz & Miyuki Aoyama.
From “Puddle,” Ryōko Shindō
I can’t help feeling that
the people I love are just piling up
in the ridges of the earth
holding up the sky
in no particular rush
#sealeychallenge Day 6: A Long Rainy Season: Contemporary Japanese Women’s Poetry, Volume 1” edited & traslated by Leza Lowitz, et al.
This is a tanka by Fumi Saitō:
“On my frozen nerve
there is a place
where a red canary
#sealeychallenge Day 5: Trace/Traza, by Iliana Rodríguez:
from “On The Mound of Earth:”
A woman like me
should be the glorious Penelope, but I never wanted to wait for a hero.
Rather, I wanted to be the heroine:
And I’m still waiting for me
as I weave and unknit
these bitter lines.
#sealeychallenge Day 4: Look There, by Agi Mishol.
This is from from “Moment:”
“I could have trembled with you under the covers
but I can also make you tremble inside my head
inside the thick stuff of alchemy
from which poems are made.”
#sealeychallenge Day 3: On Foot I Wandered Through the Solar Systems, by Edith Södergan:
“Every poem shall be the tearing up of a poem,
not a poem, but claw marks.”
#sealeychallenge Day 2: Empty Chairs, by Liu Xia, translated by Ming Di and Jennifer Stern:
“I want to give up my name as a poet.
It makes others expect things from me
and makes me face the blank page
with despair, and even madness.”
From Invitation to a Secret Feast, by Joumana Haddad, edited by Khaled Mattawa. This poem translated by Marilyn Hacker.
From The Collected Poems of Shmuel HaNagid, translated by Peter Cole:
Could kings right a people gone bad,
while they themselves are twisted?
How, in the woods, could shadows that bend
be straight when the trees are crooked?