Journal

Two Lines Press
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Daniel Faria
Translated from Portuguese By Paulo da Costa
The women vacuum the house into their lungs
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Benito del Pliego
Translated from Spanish By Forrest Gander
They lie who claim they’re free and no one holds their reins. I’ve heard it said there are unmastered horses, but I think about their riders.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Constantin Abaluta
Translated from Romanian By Victor Pambuccian
I know the chronicler of the big rain. For my part, I will write about a small rain, a rain that’s slipping through your fingers.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Margarita Rios Farjat
Translated from Spanish By Matthew Brennan
I’m not here for good, I know.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Angélica Freitas
Translated from Portuguese By Hilary B. Kaplan
down below a samba does not call me because it does not know my name
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Jose Eugenio Sanchez
Translated from Spanish By Anna Rosen Guercio
help: I need somebody
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Arseny Tarkovsky
Translated from Russian By Philip Metres, Dmitry Psurtsev
I’m not a walled city above a river, I’m the city’s coat of arms.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Fanny Rubio
Translated from Spanish By Rebecca Kosick
The manner of closing a coffee pot distinct and particular in each case or the time spent on the toilet is what marks the quotidian rhythm.
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By Ján Rozner
Translated from Slovak By Julia Sherwood
It was around seven o’clock by the time he got home, somewhat later than in the previous few days, his head empty from hours of the intense effort to stay alert but also feeling hungry and, as a result, angry and irritable.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Shamshad Abdullaev
Translated from Russian By Valzhyna Mort
Sunstuck, a boy on a red-hot square, light and shadow. Beads in the hand of an old woman.
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By João Gilberto Noll
Translated from Portuguese By Stefan Tobler
On the following morning the Englishman knocked at my door. I woke up. He told me not to be concerned, but that he would take me to the hospital to see if everything was all right.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By X-504
Translated from Spanish By John Oliver Simon
In Yard Seven there was a twenty-year-old kid who was in love with a metal icosahedron
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Dec 2016
By Benjamin Fondane
Translated from French By Nathaniel Rudavsky-Brody
I left behind one city’s sidewalks for other city sidewalks, millions of men for other millions of men,
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Benjamin Fondane
Translated from French By Nathaniel Rudavsky-Brody
The world opens within us at the view of ships departing—they depart with their hair in the wind
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Vahé Godel
Translated from French By Victor Pambuccian
what’s to be done when there’s nothing left to do? rise up hide away howl be quiet
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Vénus Khoury-Ghata
Translated from French By Marilyn Hacker
The cloud hanging over the valley has been there forever Trains come from the coast cross it without stopping
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By Vladimir Mayakovsky
Translated from Russian By Marian Schwartz
"Moscow. Is that in Poland?" they asked me at the American consulate in Mexico.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Henrik Nordbrandt
Translated from Danish By Patrick Phillips
When I saw you in the dream you turned to face me
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Henrik Nordbrandt
Translated from Danish By Patrick Phillips
The winter was hard, spring late in coming, the whole summer slate-gray.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Ngo Tu Lap
Translated from Vietnamese By Martha Collins
Time is still there Only the cold river reflecting clouds Flows into the June dusk
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By René Ariza
Translated from Spanish By Michael Koch
When they entered the room, Juliana was in a trance, the little piglet was grunting like a demon, and you could hear the chorus of laughter outside the door.
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By Martin Reiner
Translated from Czech By Andrew Oakland
Before we went to sleep, Mrs. Mašková used to read us Bible stories. In these stories, angels would appear and make people’s wishes come true, or at least tell them how to grapple with their fate.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Moshe Dor
Translated from Hebrew By Barbara Goldberg
while I do my best to live as intimately with pain as I did with love and passion,
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Fiction | Dec 2016
By Uršuľa Kovalyk
Translated from Slovak By Julia Sherwood
The wart on her right cheek kept growing. At first, it was just a tiny black dot Magdaléna noticed in the mirror as she washed her face. She didn’t attach great importance to it.
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Poetry | Dec 2016
By Julio Martinez Mesanza
Translated from Spanish By Don Bogen
When everything around me is collapsing, I think about artillery and maps,
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