Wednesday 20 September 2017

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The Selected Poetry of Emilio Villa | Friday Pick

  The Selected Poetry of Emilio Villa Translated by Dominic Siracusa Contra Mundum Press 708 pages   Who are the greatest Italian...
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Image by © Christof Schuerpf/Keystone/Corbiss

Jean-Luc Godard

I do not want to die without having seen Europe happy

Miklos Szentkuthy

Miklos Szentkuthy

As one’s arms run around the girl’s waist like crooked, decayed Iron Age scissors in the display cases of museums, one’s legs and back wish to scatter in the world, to dance at one and the same time in a thousand widely separated places.

Photo (c) Jerry Bauer / Suhrkamp Verlag

Josef Winkler

Watching the small, humpbacked man coughing and spitting up blood, his waxen countenance corpse-yellow, his skin covered in black blotches, a black-clothed nun pulled a rosary from a leather case and kissed one of its black joints.

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