Murder on Garland Street My father shot a crowthe whisper of autumn leaveshushed by a thump on the groundopen wingedbeak heading north with the moss.My young sons standing next to him. He told me this on his death bedhis blue...
Read MoreTranslated from the Assamese by Anindita Kar In the beginning, was the music, and the music was with God, and the music was God. Among the handful of people who managed to arrive at this barren desert located in the far West,...
Read MoreMy name is Malti. I was named after a flower, my grandmother told me, but she couldn’t tell my birthyear. She only remembered that it was the month of Sraban, the courtyard was filled with water, and our neighbor, Lala Miah’s...
Read MoreHen Flies hizzing. Hen stands on the midden.Eye beady as night that sees by dark. In that mind one thought continuousfrom the moment of the first to the end. The ground dissembles at her peck.The deep end of the sky drains to...
Read MoreTranslated from the Bengali by Arindam Nandy Return from the Seas Blue! Blue! Is there a touch of green? Light, dark and shades endless More or less blue, nonetheless. Like a sudden laughter in space amidst all this A...
Read More“The music hall, not poetry, is a criticism of life.”-James A. A. Joyce for Daan Yes, Thomas Gruewald sat by the fountain in the Pl. Nueva every Saturday and every Thursday. Yes, he waited until the line of shadow and sunlight...
Read MoreThe Kingdom “A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse!”—Shakespeare, Richard III “…everything is very normal. The only thing is,you will never know what they think. You will never knowwhat a Displaced Person thinks in the...
Read MoreTranslated from the original Bengali by Dipen Bhattacharya and Lisa Conyers. The sun was setting; the arches of the temple of the Empress Hatsepsut began to disappear into the darkness. My hands were red after hammering away the...
Read MoreTranslated from the French by Patrick Williamson. 1 I could have fallen in love with a chairbut you sat downunder the femur clockyou took my eyes for doors my ghosts melted with the raina few slow stones were leftthat danced and...
Read MoreEverything(for Eleanor) If we’d lived 100 years ago we’d meet in the sparkling cafes of eastern Europe share a pastry and sip our bitter brews argue over the news- paper the...
Read MoreTranslated from the Bengali by Boudhayan Mukherjee. Fear Calling Fear I’m fearing to liveFearing to turn my sight awayFearing to spread out my palms,Fear is overpowering meFearing to go aheadFearing to turn around I’m fearing to...
Read MoreTranslated from the Arabic by Adam Lebzo. Twenty hours passed before Adam decided to wake up. He’d had a long day that felt more like half a week. And so, Adam had to compensate by getting 3 nights worth of sleep in one...
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Very insightful interview taken by Owshnik Ghosh of my work and reflections. Thank uou Owshnik.
[…] Antonym Magazine. The first of a multiple-installment focus on the Murder Ballad can be found at the Antonym Magazine…
Nicely done
Beautiful 😊😊👌🏽
Loved the way Debraj links it a full circle, though they're 3 characters from different novels. Kudos!!
Excellent translation doing full justice to the essence of the original poems