Articles tagged " Friendship"
from Havana Black
"And get here quick!" he screamed at a sky that seemed languid and becalmed, as if still painted from October's deceptive palette of blue: he screamed, arms crossed, chest bare, bellowing a desperate…...
Queen of the Night and Stone Flower
On the souls of those who live life free under the skies-with the blades of grass, at the edge of the forest, on hills bedizened with bright flowers of the field-it is written that they must know many…...
from “Ashes of the Amazon”
I'm from where I was born. I'm from elsewhere. --Jo£o Guimar£es Rosa I read Mundo's letter in a bar in the Beco das Cancelas, an alley-way where I found refuge from the hubbub of…...
Nausea
The street where I live doesn't know it is not yet another snaky street in Istanbul but in truth some kind of a vessel. We the fortuitous passengers keep this as a secret, divulging it to no one, not…...
The Man Who Sold His Shadow
Here's a question we all ask ourselves at least once when we're young: Where does that starlight come from? It's been there before I was born, and before my grandmother, and her grandmother…...
Ahem
It wasn't his cough reaching me from the inner cells across the dark, narrow hall that struck my interest more than the slamming of a door or the resonating ring of a pot falling on the hard floor.…...
Puerta de Alcalá
It loved to happen. -Marcus Aurelius (Written over the doorway to Seymour and Buddy Glass's bedroom in J. D. Salinger's Franny and Zooey) He had always heard that to name disasters was sure to…...
Iraq Stories
Journalists who visit Iraq hear many stories, yet they are prevented from recording the majority of them because they must chase after the hot story, the quick journalistic news piece. A journalist might…...
Mynheer
It is bitter, each Passover, to read, in the luxury and voluptuousness of being The solitude of the four boards from the palm slapped over the cheek the morning tear urged against the abandonment of oneself…...
Mourning Yin Yao
Returning you to StoneTower Mountain, we bid farewell among ash-green pine and cyprus, then return home. Of your bones, now buried white cloud, this much remains forever: streams cascading empty toward…...
Mourning Meng Hao-jan
My dear friend* nowhere in sight, this Han River keeps flowing east. Now, if I look for old masters here, I find empty rivers and mountains. *Meng Hao-jan was another of China's great poets and Wang…...
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