from Slaughterhouse, Chapter 12, page 5

by Nguyen Quang Thieu

Translated by

Bruce Weigl

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This piece is part of our Fall/Winter 2020 print issue.

Translated from Vietnamese by Bruce Weigl

Nguyen Quang Thieu

NGUYEN QUANG THIEU is one of Vietnam’s most widely read and highly regarded contemporary poets. He serves as the Director of the Writers Association Publishing House, and as Head of the International Translation Center. In addition to his active writing career he is also an artist, primarily painter whose work has been widely shown in Vietnam.

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Translation

Bruce Weigl

Bruce Weigl is the author of more than a dozen books of poetry, several translations, and the best-selling memoir The Circle of Hanh. After serving in the Vietnam War, where he earned a Bronze Star, Weigel returned to the United States and was educated at Oberlin College. He received his MFA in writing and American and British literature from the University of New Hampshire and his PhD from the University of Utah. He currently lives in Oberlin, Ohio.

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Two Poems

by Osip Mandelstam

Translated by

Margaree Little

Translated from the Russian by Margaree Little THE STALIN EPIGRAM We live, not sensing the country beneath us, our speech can’t be heard at ten steps away, but where there is room for a half-conversation, there we remember the mountaineer in the Kremlin. His thick fingers, like maggots, are fat, and his words, like pound-weights,

Spring 2025

Two Poems

by Giuseppe Ungaretti

Translated by

Wally Swist

translated from Italian by Wally Swist from L’Allegria/Cheerfulness (Poems 1914-1919) Nostalgia When night fades just before the springtime and it is a rare person who passes Over Paris a dark color weeping thickens In a poem of a bridge I contemplate the incalculable silence of a slender girl Our afflictions merge together And how carried

Spring 2021

The Red Canoe

by Ute von Funcke

Translated by

Stuart Friebert

Translated from the German by Stuart Friebert She climbed into her red canoe without a paddle on a road heavy as lead, without water apples in her pack, absent a future, postcards in gaping shoes, dead holiday greetings yesterday, superseded, freezes, in the faces behind the blinds, the dark’s falling guillotines in the last crack,

Summer 2018

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