Poems

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Two poems by Adélia Prado (from Miserere) translated from Brazilian Portuguese by Ellen Doré Watson
On what might be called a street,
Adélia Prado
Two Poems | Kelli Russell Agodon
When you say no worries what you mean is,
Kelli Russell Agodon
Two Poems
Thinking’s chariot starts with it:
Peter Cole
Two Poems
The clarity of familiar faces
Chantal Bizzini
Two Poems
Save forever my words for the taste of a smoke and disaster,
Osip Mandelstam
Two Poems
War catches a man with a shopping bag
Ludmila Khersonsky
Two Poems
For the second time, yet not the last, in this
Cynthia Schwartzberg Edlow
Two Poems
There was intent. To bisect the fields
John Kinsella
Two Poems
Where does it live?
Molly Peacock
Two Poems
You search for the best doctors, try to curb her pain—
Jennifer Franklin
Two Poems
I didn't know it then, but we were learning Italian...
Christopher Buckley
Two Poems
I could never say anything about my father
Patricia Clark

Two poems by Adélia Prado (from Miserere) translated from Brazilian Portuguese by Ellen Doré Watson