Arhive categorii: english

english versions of poetic

Nicanor Parra won Miguel de Cervantes Prize 2011

Nicanor Parra, the Chilean poet and mathematician who seeks to demystify poetry and make it accessible to a wider audience, has won the 2011 Miguel de Cervantes Prize.

Organizers of the world’s highest Spanish-language literary honour announced Parra, 97, as the winner on Thursday in Madrid.

Born into a well-known family of artists, writers and performers (including his famed folk singer sister Violeta), Parra graduated from the University of Chile and became a professor of mathematics and physics in 1938.
(…)
Worth €125,000 (nearly $171,500 Cdn), the Cervantes Prize honours a Spanish-language writer for his or her body of work and is among the world’s most lucrative literary awards. Past recipients have included Spain’s Ana Maria Matute, Peru’s Mario Vargas Llosa and Mexico’s Octavio Paz.

CBC

Young Poets

Write as you will
In whatever style you like
Too much blood has run under the bridge
To go on believing
That only one road is right.

In poetry everything is permitted.

With only this condition of course,
You have to improve the blank page.

Continuă lectura Nicanor Parra won Miguel de Cervantes Prize 2011

A Lexicon of Romanian in Finnegans Wake (online publication)

Contemporary Literature Press,
under The University of Bucharest, in permanent conjunction withThe British Council, and The Romanian Cultural Institute,

Announces the publication of 

A Lexicon of Romanian in Finnegans Wake 

by C. George Sandulescu

(ISBN 978-606-8366-04-3)

11. 11.11.11.11.
11. 11. 2011
+ the Eleventh Minute of the Eleventh Hour!

 

Two pairs of words explain the need for this Rumanian Lexicon ofFinnegans WakeIrish Ruman and Limba romena. Both come from an enigmatic book which is not yet a novel. Finnegans Wake is, however, the most fascinating story about forty languages of the earth coming from one and the same root. It is a challenge to think both back and ahead. When Joyce states that history is a nightmare from which he is trying to awake, he is very far from complaining: actually, he challenges all his readers to follow the researcher’s calling. ReadingFinnegans Wake turns fast into solid linguistic research. As nobody has really „cracked” all the enigmas in this text, the way is still open, and invites curiosity and thought…  Continuă lectura A Lexicon of Romanian in Finnegans Wake (online publication)

After 42 years, a poem on Gaddafi and Libya by Khaled Mattawa

Khaled Mattawa was born in Benghazi, Libya where he had his primary education. In 1979 he emigrated to the United States. He lived in the South for many years, finishing high school in Louisiana and completing bachelors degrees in political science and economics at the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. He went on to earn an MA in English and an MFA in creative writing from Indiana University where he taught creative writing and won an Academy of American Poets award. (from webdelsol) He translated into English from Arabic contemporary poets like Adonis, Saadi Youssef, Joumana Haddad or Iman Mirsal.
Last week, Khaled Mattawa read his latest piece, entitled „After 42 Years,” performed in the aftermath of Gaddafi’s death.

Khaled Mattawa poem – After 42 Years by Rebeccakesby1

After 42 years

Five years old when the dictator took over in a coup —

curfew shut our city down

Bloodless coup, they said —

The many who thought this could be good.

The dictator, a young man, a shy recluse assumed the helm, bent in piety,

the dead sun of megalomania hidden in his eyes.

Could not go to the store to buy bread or newspaper,

could not leave home, visit friends,

the radio thundering hatred, retching blood-curdling song —

Signs that went unread

Factories built and filched, houses stolen, newspapers shut down,

decades of people killed, 42 years.

But that’s all over now —

How can you say over when it took 42 years —

I was five when the dictator took my brother away

Over now, 42 years, must look ahead.

His face half blood-covered, half smirking

Like Batman’s Joker,

hands raised, fingers pressed together upward

(full poem at LA Times)