By Gaither Stewart THE POWER OF LOVE Since his return home from the war Helmut had never felt emotions of normal human warmth. The atmosphere in those maddened postwar years had been chaotic. Life was different then. He too had…
By: Paweł Markiewicz As a tribute to Hugo Grotius The triple Mondo 5-7-7 5-7-7 Valedictorian*as Master(=Scientist) a young scientist …………………….. V: Has philosophy of politics something to do with the untroubled and peaceful? M: It is untroubled like magic marvellous…
By: Paweł Markiewicz I full goblet I become an existence when Your memory shines goblet of Osiris I miss at will cup without blood comes true spell of dew I am blissful butterfly you turn dew into essence fog over…
By: Prashil Kumar Hello Krishna, “The spirit lives on. It never perishes”. This is what my father told me and my sister back in the village. My spirit will deliver this letter to you. With over I billion followers and…
Amazon Crossing, the literature in translation imprint of Amazon Publishing, announced today the acquisition of The Man Who Played with Fire: Stieg Larsson’s Lost Files and the Hunt for an Assassin by Jan Stocklassa, translated by Tara F. Chace for…
By: Nick Sweeney ‘I treasure your letters,’ he read. ‘I hear your pen scratch the page, see you walking to the post. This chain of events cuts through logic to crystal clear beauty in my mind, your letters the result,…
By: Mark Kodama It was the summer of 1876. The great white father was demanding that we sell our land to them – land that was not ours to sell – and then move to the reservation – where only…
By Alan Berger In the middle of the night At the tail end of another tales thought flight I remembered I line That made me give back all the lines of advices I ever had bought “If you are scared…
By Michael Mogel An ancient rhythm a ritual that defies time like dancing the Argentine Tango. A frozen face like a mask hiding the fear of death. The touch of another invading a stream of movement. The tune is always…
By: Carl Parsons A Late Quartet of Beethoven Old men were playing a late quartet of Beethoven and resonant wood throbbed in ancient hands and skeletal fingers rubbed the music’s body like a lover like a magician of death and…
