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“When you decide to leave,”

May 21, 2017 in Poetry by

وقتی می‌ خواهی بروی
آسمان صاف است
راه‌ ها هموار
ترن‌ ها مدام سوت می‌ کشند
همین‌ طور کشتی‌ ها
اما وقتی می‌ خواهی بیایی
دریاها طوفانی می‌ شوند
آسمان‌ ها ابری
و راه‌ های زمینی را نیز
برف می‌ بندد
دوست دارم بیایی
اما نیا!
دنیا به هم می‌ ریزد!


Rasool Yoonan, a poet, playwright, novelist, and translator, was born in 1969 in Urmia, Iran. His debut collection of poetry, Good Day My Dear, was published in 1998. Further collections include Concert in Hell, I Was a Bad Boy, Carrying the Piano Down the Stairs of an Icy Hotel, Be Careful; Ants Are Coming, and Skiing on the Housetops. Yoonan’s most recent publications are three chapbooks of micro fiction: You Idiot! We’re Dead; Damn It, Pick Up the Phone; and See You in Hell.
Yoonan’s poetry has also been translated to Armenian and French.


 

When you decide to leave,
the sky is clear. The roads are paved.
Trains purr incessantly.
By the same token, ships and the sound
of their foghorn.

But when you decide to come back,
the seas start to rage. The sky gets cloudy,
and the blankets of snow block the roads.

I would love for you to come back,
but don’t; the world will be
in sheer chaos!

 


Siavash Saadlou was born and raised in Iran. He is a writer, literary translator, and teacher. Saadlou is the authorized translator of Rasool Yoonan, the minimalist Iranian poet. His translations have appeared in Washington Square Review, Indian Review, Visions International, Blue Lyra Review, Writing Disorder, and Asymptote. He is an MFA creative writing candidate and a teaching fellow at Saint Mary’s College of California.


 

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“Bats were born bats”

May 21, 2017 in Poetry by

خفاش ها
به طور تصادفی خفاش به دنیا آمده اند.

نفرینشان نکن!

حالا که در مورد روشنایی صحبت می کنی،
تاریکی را با احترام به آنها بسپار

خیالت راحت،
آنها از حاشیه خواب هایت
بیرون می روند


Rasool Yoonan, a poet, playwright, novelist, and translator, was born in 1969 in Urmia, Iran. His debut collection of poetry, Good Day My Dear, was published in 1998. Further collections include Concert in Hell, I Was a Bad Boy, Carrying the Piano Down the Stairs of an Icy Hotel, Be Careful; Ants Are Coming, and Skiing on the Housetops. Yoonan’s most recent publications are three chapbooks of micro fiction: You Idiot! We’re Dead; Damn It, Pick Up the Phone; and See You in Hell.
Yoonan’s poetry has also been translated to Armenian and French.


Bats were born bats
at pure random.

Don’t curse them!

Now that you’re talking
about light, entrust
the darkness to bats with dignity!

Rest assured that they will leave
the margins of your dreams.

 


Siavash Saadlou was born and raised in Iran. He is a writer, literary translator, and teacher. Saadlou is the authorized translator of Rasool Yoonan, the minimalist Iranian poet. His translations have appeared in Washington Square Review, Indian Review, Visions International, Blue Lyra Review, Writing Disorder, and Asymptote. He is an MFA creative writing candidate and a teaching fellow at Saint Mary’s College of California.


 

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“My first ever journey started”

May 21, 2017 in Poetry by

نخستين سفرم
با اسبي آغاز شد
-که در جیبم جاي می گرفت –
از اتاق تا بالکن.

سفر کوتاهی بود
اما من درياها را پشت سر گذاشتم
شهرهاي پر ستاره را
از ابتداي جهان
تا انتهاي جهان رفتم
و اين سفر
تنها سفر بی خطر من بود.

 


Rasool Yoonan, a poet, playwright, novelist, and translator, was born in 1969 in Urmia, Iran. His debut collection of poetry, Good Day My Dear, was published in 1998. Further collections include Concert in Hell, I Was a Bad Boy, Carrying the Piano Down the Stairs of an Icy Hotel, Be Careful; Ants Are Coming, and Skiing on the Housetops. Yoonan’s most recent publications are three chapbooks of micro fiction: You Idiot! We’re Dead; Damn It, Pick Up the Phone; and See You in Hell.
Yoonan’s poetry has also been translated to Armenian and French.


 

My first ever journey started

with a horse that would fit
in my pocket—from my bedroom
to the balcony.

It was a short journey,
but I passed through the seas,
the starry cities.

I traveled from the beginning
of the universe to the end of it,
and that was my only
safe journey.

 


Siavash Saadlou was born and raised in Iran. He is a writer, literary translator, and teacher. Saadlou is the authorized translator of Rasool Yoonan, the minimalist Iranian poet. His translations have appeared in Washington Square Review, Indian Review, Visions International, Blue Lyra Review, Writing Disorder, and Asymptote. He is an MFA creative writing candidate and a teaching fellow at Saint Mary’s College of California.


 

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“Neither hell,”

May 21, 2017 in Poetry, Uncategorized by

 

نه جهنم،
نه بهشت
مرد فقیر دم مرگ
تنها به بدهی هایش فکر می کند


Rasool Yoonan, a poet, playwright, novelist, and translator, was born in 1969 in Urmia, Iran. His debut collection of poetry, Good Day My Dear, was published in 1998. Further collections include Concert in Hell, I Was a Bad Boy, Carrying the Piano Down the Stairs of an Icy Hotel, Be Careful; Ants Are Coming, and Skiing on the Housetops. Yoonan’s most recent publications are three chapbooks of micro fiction: You Idiot! We’re Dead; Damn It, Pick Up the Phone; and See You in Hell.


Neither hell,
nor heaven.
The poor man thinks
only about his debts at death’s door.


Siavash Saadlou was born and raised in Iran. He is a writer, literary translator, and teacher. Saadlou is the authorized translator of Rasool Yoonan, the minimalist Iranian poet. His translations have appeared in Washington Square Review, Indian Review, Visions International, Blue Lyra Review, Writing Disorder, and Asymptote. He is an MFA creative writing candidate and a teaching fellow at Saint Mary’s College of California.


 

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“My mind”

May 16, 2017 in Poetry by

Minha mente
Mesmo dividindo
O mesmo espaço com o meu coração,
Não se dá por vencida
Nem por votação.

Posso ouvir o meu coração
Falando para não seguir a razão
Mas, mesmo assim
Escuto a razão
Me dizendo para não seguir
O coração.

Por que os comandantes
Do meu ser
Não podiam se entender?

Queria tanto amar
Pessoas que meu coração
Me diz não
Queria tanto ter pessoas
Que minha mente
Não me impeça.


Gabriela Helena de Oliveira Borges was born on November 25, 2000, in a city in the interior of São Paulo, Brazil, called Franca.  She is the third and youngest child of a fierce and kind couple.  She was educated in private secondary schools and it was in the first of these, Escola de Arte Criativa Toulouse Lautrec, that she discovered the magic of art and developed her charm for writing, always with the support of her family.  For two consecutive years she won first place in the school poetry competition and she never stopped writing.  She currently attends hight school at Novo Colégio, in her home city


My mind
Even splitting
The same space with my heart,
Does not accept defeat
Not even by vote counts.

I can hear my heart
Saying not to follow reason
But, just the same
I listen to reason
Telling me not to follow
The heart.

Why is it that the commanders
Of my being
Cannot understand?

I wished so much to love
People that my heart
Told me not to
I wished so much to have people
That my mind
Does not allow me.


Tucson, Arizona born-and-raised, Shelby London Salemi practices capoeira angola and is earning her MFA in Writing at the University of California San Diego.  Her writing has appeared in the online journal Spiral Orb and the 2016 print anthology The Sonoran Desert: A Literary Field Guide.  She is working on her first novel.


 

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Who

May 16, 2017 in Autotranslation, Korean, Poetry by

누구 – 이은현

나는 누군데?
내가 아니다.
왜 내가계속 연기를해?
지금 누구를 위해서 내 자신에 속이는거야?

아니다.
지금 나 뭐해?
왜 네말은 듣고니?
네가 뭔데?
너는 누군데?

Who

Who am I?
I am not me.
Why do I keep acting?
For whose benefit am I now tricking myself?

No.
What am I doing now?
Why I am listening to your words?
What are you?
Who do you think you are?


Grace Lee (1996) is a Korean American writer and artist. She uses writing and art to express her passions for literature, music, beauty, and fashion as well as the cultural and social customs and issues of today in both American and South Korean society. Her hobbies include socializing with friends, walking/yoga, and reading. She is studying for a bachelor’s degree in creative writing at the University of California San Diego, where she is currently working on a short story about unhealthy relationships.

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Don’t Do This

May 16, 2017 in Autotranslation, Korean, Poetry by

하지마요 – 이은현

기억하다. 아직도 기억하다.
밤에 기억하다.
아침도기억하다.
매일 기억하다.

째깍째깍. 째깍째깍.

안 하고 싶은데.
그래도 내 기억은 껌 처럼 내 머리 속에붙어있다.
아침에 일어나면 숨을 쉴수없다.

헐떡 헐떡.
마음이 노무 빨이 뒨고다.

헐떡 헐떡.
목이 마르다.

헐떡 헐떡.
내 몸이 땀을 흘린다.

내눈은 다.
그가 다.

“나는 이제 안 할에.”

Don’t Do This

I remember. Even now I still remember.
At night I remember.
Also at daybreak I remember.
I remember everyday.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

I don’t want to.
But still my memories are stuck like gum to the inside of my head.
When I wake up in the morning I can’t breathe.

*Gasp Gasp*
My heart is beating too fast.

*Gasp Gasp*
My throat is dry.

*Gasp Gasp*
My body is dripping sweat.

My eyes are opened.
He is there.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”


Grace Lee (1996) is a Korean American writer and artist. She uses writing and art to express her passions for literature, music, beauty, and fashion as well as the cultural and social customs and issues of today in both American and South Korean society. Her hobbies include socializing with friends, walking/yoga, and reading. She is studying for a bachelor’s degree in creative writing at the University of California San Diego, where she is currently working on a short story about unhealthy relationships.

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Don’t Leave

May 16, 2017 in Autotranslation, Korean, Poetry by

가지마요 – 이은현

가을 밤에 한
남자가 집에
들어갔다.

마음이 무거웠다.

사랑은 뭐야?

오늘 아침
조용하다. 그리고 내
첫 사랑이 파리로 갔다. 너랑
키스 하고싶었다 (첫). 네가 가기 전에.
틀렸다 – 내가.

파리에서 해가 떠났다.

행복하게 살아. 나는 너의옆에 이제는 못을것 같아.

Don’t Leave

One autumn night, a man
Went home.

His heart was heavy.

What is love?

This morning is quiet. And my
First love left for Paris. I
Wanted to have my kiss (first) with
You. Before you left.
I was wrong – I was.

The sun has set in Paris.

Live happily. I think I can no longer stay by your side anymore.


Grace Lee (1996) is a Korean American writer and artist. She uses writing and art to express her passions for literature, music, beauty, and fashion as well as the cultural and social customs and issues of today in both American and South Korean society. Her hobbies include socializing with friends, walking/yoga, and reading. She is studying for a bachelor’s degree in creative writing at the University of California San Diego, where she is currently working on a short story about unhealthy relationships.

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“In a frightening silence”

May 15, 2017 in Poetry, Spanish by

Num silêncio assustador
Onde ouço somente o ruído
Que o ventilador insiste em fazer
Sem nem mesmo querer

Pensando bem,
Há um cutucar
De lápis sem parar

Estou sozinha no silêncio
E ainda escuto vozes
Ao longe a cochichar
Para ninguém desconfiar

Será que é minha mente,
Ou está cheio de gente?
Nem sei mais identificar
Aonde posso estar.


Gabriela Helena de Oliveira Borges was born on November 25, 2000, in a city in the interior of São Paulo, Brazil, called Franca.  She is the third and youngest child of a fierce and kind couple.  She was educated in private secondary schools and it was in the first of these, Escola de Arte Criativa Toulouse Lautrec, that she discovered the magic of art and developed her charm for writing, always with the support of her family.  For two consecutive years she won first place in the school poetry competition and she never stopped writing.  She currently attends hight school at Novo Colégio, in her home city


In a frightening silence
In which I hear only the sound
That the fan insists on making
Without even wanting to

Thinking hard,
There’s a never-ending jab
Of the pencil

I am alone in the silence
And still I hear voices
From afar whispering
That nobody distrust them

Could it be that it’s my mind,
Or is it full of people?
I don’t know nor do I recognize
Whither I can be.


Tucson, Arizona born-and-raised, Shelby London Salemi practices capoeira angola and is earning her MFA in Writing at the University of California San Diego.  Her writing has appeared in the online journal Spiral Orb and the 2016 print anthology The Sonoran Desert: A Literary Field Guide.  She is working on her first novel.


 

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Sentimento Latente

May 15, 2017 in Poetry, Spanish, Uncategorized by

SENTIMENTO LATENTE

Sob a luz do luar
Feliz a cantar
Era um sonho que um dia
Ia acabar

Calaram-me
Desaparecimentos iam ocorrer
Logo então
Exilaram-me

Essa tortura logo
Me enlouqueceu
Mas não me esqueceu

Então me lembrei
Que este país
É meu,
É seu,
E eu lutarei.


Gabriela Helena de Oliveira Borges was born on November 25, 2000, in a city in the interior of São Paulo, Brazil, called Franca.  She is the third and youngest child of a fierce and kind couple.  She was educated in private secondary schools and it was in the first of these, Escola de Arte Criativa Toulouse Lautrec, that she discovered the magic of art and developed her charm for writing, always with the support of her family.  For two consecutive years she won first place in the school poetry competition and she never stopped writing.  She currently attends hight school at Novo Colégio, in her home city


LATENT FEELING

Under the moonlight
Happily singing
There was a dream that one day
It would end

They shut me up
Disappearances would occur
Soon after
They exiled me

This torture soon
Made me go crazy
But it didn’t pass me by

Then I remembered
That this country is mine,
Is yours,
And I will fight.


Tucson, Arizona born-and-raised, Shelby London Salemi practices capoeira angola and is earning her MFA in Writing at the University of California San Diego.  Her writing has appeared in the online journal Spiral Orb and the 2016 print anthology The Sonoran Desert: A Literary Field Guide.  She is working on her first novel.