Poet, queer activist, and spoken-word artist Rönn-Lisa Zakrisson speaks to sex, politics, and colonialism in Sápmi.

Read Najwan Darwish's Near the Shrine of Saint Naum, the third poem in the Words Without Borders—Academy of American Poets National Translation Month series, translated by Kareem James Abu-Zeid.

A young Laotian man released from prison in Phnom Penh finds refuge with a Cambodian fisherman’s family and falls in love with their daughter.

In celebration of #WorldKidLitMonth, Ruth Ahmedzai Kemp recommends 12 international books for young readers with an interest in world history.

In this excerpt of Elisa Shua Dusapin's new novel, a young woman tries to plan a trip to Korea with her grandparents, neither of whom has returned to their native country since fleeing the Korean War.

Read Zahid M. Naser's kretek-ing, the second poem in the Words Without Borders—Academy of American Poets National Translation Month series, translated by Pauline Fan.

WWB seeks a social media editor to drive engagement and growth across our social media channels as we work to broaden the audience for international literature.

Moira Egan talks with Nathalie Handal about poetry and pandemonium in Rome.

Everyday objects serve as touchstones of Sámi culture in three prose poems by Linnea Axelsson.

An excerpt from Jeannette L. Clariond's Goddesses of Water, translated by Samantha Schnee, and the first selection from the 2022 Words Without Borders–Academy of American Poets Poems in Translation collection honoring National Translation Month.

Darren Byler pays tribute to his co-translator and friend A., with whom he collaborated on Uyghur novelist Perhat Tursun's The Backstreets. A. is now presumed to be in a reeducation camp in Xinjiang.

When I first read Identitti, I thought, “Is the author using this in earnest or is this meant to be funny?”

Tobias Carroll recommends new and exciting books in translation from Sudan, Belgium, Haiti, France, and South Korea.

Are there homosexual reindeer herders?

I thought I could create a space for sharing women’s global experiences through literary fiction. 

Her mother was dead, she knew that, but she did not know why her aunt and her uncle were the ones who took her in.

I had the look of a Westerner fresh off the boat, with my wrinkled trousers, tourist backpack, and it didn’t tally with my fluency in Kinyarwanda.

we take to the poem, a miracle with no church, with no witness.

Reading Roth’s Berlin miniatures, a sense of the dynamic between sociability and justice feels essential to the urban experience.

When they chucked me out in the middle of the goddamn winter, you gave me your coat and seven euros.

How likable the island when it isn’t / more than a door that opens outward.

Empire made English my mother tongue—and the only one I have any real dominion over.

My mother and I will burn it all.

For weeks, Ma didn’t feel a shred of warmth for the baby.

Tobias Carroll recommends new and exciting books in translation from Lebanon, China, Spain, Japan, and France.

I return to the world as I depart, / having birthed another phantom, / a dweller of nebulous coasts, / a brief enemy of metaphors.

In English, Hindi, and Bangla—the languages I use daily—we spoke only of death and distress.

I’ve always felt that my commitment is to the text, not the author, but it is wonderful to be able to ask for and receive permission.

Cristina Pérez Díaz writes about four Puerto Rican poets whose work operates in the constructions of queer bodies and of the nation.

Recent and forthcoming poetry in translation from Mexico, South Korea, Croatia, Haiti, and more.