Posts Tagged ‘ translation ’

Today’s Haiku (September 11, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

声出せば声のかたちに花芒    長峰竹芳

koe daseba koe no katachi ni hanasusuki

in the shape of a voice

when I emit a voice

plume grass blossoms

Chikuhoh Nagamine

from ‘Haidan,’ (‘Haiku Stage’) a monthly haiku magazine, December 2015 Issue, Honami Shoten, Tokyo

translation by Fay Aoyagi                          …

Source: Today’s Haiku (September 11, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

Charlotte Mandell reads from her translation of The Fall of Sleep by Jean-Luc Nancy – YouTube

Today’s Haiku (July 7, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

rojiura o yogisha to omou kingyo kana

it thinks

a back alley is a night train…

gold fish

Yukihiko Settsu

Fay Aoyagi, translation

from ‘Haiku,’ a monthly haiku magazine, August 2014 Issue, Kabushiki Kaisha Kadokawa, Tokyo

Source: Today’s Haiku (July 7, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

Today’s Haiku (June 24, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

芝刈の響動(とよ)もす石器時代跡  米田清文

shibakari no toyomosu sekki jidai ato

a lawn mower

vibrates loud

the remains of the Stone Age

Kiyofumi Yoneta

Fay Aoyagi, translation

from ‘Haidan,’ (‘Haiku Stage’) a monthly haiku magazine, July 2017 Issue, Honami Shoten, Tokyo

Source: Today’s Haiku (June 24, 2019) | Blue Willow Haiku World (by Fay Aoyagi)

Poem by Apollinaire – translated by Marilyn McCabe | 3 Quarks Daily

The Hotel

My room is like a cage.
The sun hangs its arms through the bars.
But I, I want to smoke,
to curl shapes in the air;
I light my cigarette
on the day’s fire.
I do not want to work —
I want to smoke.


L’hotel

Ma chambre a la forme d’une cage,
Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre.
Mais moi qui veux fumer pour faire des mirages,
J’allume au feu du jour ma cigarette,
Je ne veux pas travailler — je veux fumer.

.
by Guillaume Apollinaire
translated by Marilyn McCabe

Source: Sunday Poem | 3 Quarks Daily

datableedzine | Aditya Bahl issue 10

Aditya Bahl

Source: datableedzine | Aditya Bahl issue 10

Orion Magazine | Deirdre Remembers a Scottish Glen

Deirdre Remembers a Scottish Glen
translated by MARTIN SHAW and TONY HOAGLAND

Irish, unknown, possibly fourteenth century

Glen of my body’s feeding:

crested breast of loveliest wheat,

glen of the thrusting long-horned cattle,

firm among the trysting bees.

Wild with cuckoo, thrush, and blackbird,

and the frisky hind below the oak thick ridge.

Green roof that covered a thousand foxes,

glen of wild garlic and watercress, and scarlet-berried rowan.

And badgers, delirious with sleep, heaped fat in dens

next to their burrowed young.

Glen sentried with blue-eyed hawks,

greenwood laced with sloe, apple, blackberry,

tight-crammed between the ridge and pointed peaks.

My glen of the star-tangled yews,

where hares would lope in the easy dew.

To remember is a ringing pain of brightness.

Source: Orion Magazine | Deirdre Remembers a Scottish Glen