I toss away the diary. While, in the street, leaves fly like pages. By Jaume Subirana Translated by Christopher Whyte…
Translations
The Dwarves’ Market They say that there’s a secluded place in Sicily where, on Christmas Eve, an enchanted fair takes…
While we were on the plane, I realised I’d never been on a trip like this before. I’d travelled with…
my skin is white on account of a sun allergy and because I spend my days with the curtains drawn…
June 1915, the war When I was a child, I saw a pack of wolves in these mountains. My father…
I d(r)ipped my pen in your pain and we(‘) d(rew/rue) endlessly weird runes tog(e/a)ther By Mario Martín Gijón Translated by…
A SLICE OF BREAD Terrible cold, hunger. A persistent, nagging hunger. Like a relentless, evil spirit, which leaves you not…
BOOK TWO. THE TEMPEST THE GOAT The wind now drove the ship onward, and its bird’s beak pecked the swath…
Before they built the apartment blocks across the street, before everything was screened off and suffocating, I used to watch…
THE MAN INSIDE HIS OWN HEAD A shadow follows a woman, the woman is small and crooked, the shadow keeps…
On the Feeling of Elasticity When Walking Over Dead Bodies is a landmark play by Matéi Vişniec and is representative…
MY BODY I sat there, on the green bench in the city park, in the desolate and luminous morning, thinking…
