Bryar and I first translated this poem before ever visiting the Chamishko IDP Camp it describes, near the Kurdistan Region of Iraq’s borders with Turkey and Syria. When we did travel there with Zêdan several months later, to visit their home of the previous five years, we felt an eery recognition. Zêdan’s poem captures not just the stoic vegetable salesmen and bored teenagers of the enormous camp city, but also the seemingly endless drudgery of daily life within its confines. I’m not sure I had ever before experienced so clearly the sensation of walking into a poem—and I hope our translation transports the reader for at least a few minutes into the heart of Chamishko, where many thousands of survivors of the 2014 genocide remain to this day.
Shook on "A Barcode Scanner" |
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Emily Berry Writes About Poet Mary Ruefle
"Ruefle’s poetry isn’t depressing, though, and it’s refreshingly egoless. ‘I have a friend who has never read a single word I have ever written,’ she writes in ‘Dear Friends.' ‘I love being with her.’ Auden wrote that poetry exists ‘in a valley of its own making’, and Ruefle’s is no exception, but this is a valley in which you can see yourself setting up home."
via LONDON REVIEW OF BOOKS |
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What Sparks Poetry:
Our Thanks to You
Through the generosity of Ilya Kaminsky, Poetry Daily is offering a choice of two signed, limited edition broadsides of his poem, "A Walking Man," to every donor who is able to give $100 or more between December 11 and December 31. But all donations, whether small or large, mean the world to us. Thank you for all you do for poetry. |
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