Ivan Wernisch

  AS THE SNOW MELTED   They appeared as the snow melted Those who had perished in the last days of March, Then those from the...
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Pavel Srut

He was close to tears as if he had known the penalty / the day before the day he angered the gods

Wanda Heinrichova

hands reaching toward stems // toward my dejected, cambered gaze no way / they want to be saved

Kamil Bouska

How to leave this house; / where each room leads to another, from one door to the next, / always only there and never back

Milan Dezinsky

We are not approaching our end, / but from ultimate emptiness / the end is hurtling towards us.

Pavel Srut – Part 3

FATHER, THE VIOLINMAKER DOESN'T DRY / the cat gut, he goes out into the darkness / and won’t return to the light again. I hardly / ever meet him, even // if I keep my shoes on in bed / with each woman I sleep with...

Pavel Srut – Part 1

Silently, the silent mold / sounds its tenuous / bell. A woman lies down / beside me, her head // a huge washed beetroot.

Remembering Pavel Srut’s Worm-Eaten Light

It is hard to define the art of bearing witness. All I know is that each time I experience these poems as a reader and translator, I travel along with Pavel to that time before my time in Bohemia – to Pavel and Veronika, his four year old daughter, as they play together in the snow – games that in any other context would be innocent, but in this context, chilling and horrifying.

Milan Dezinsky

This moment is only a delay: / tomatoes, / waiting blankly at the executioner’s block, / on the verge of exploding and sourly burning / the impression of morning, scorching the light, / burning the face. / Victorious tomatoes.

B O D Y 1st Birthday Bash

Join us for an evening of literature at the Anglo-American University Library (Letenská 118/1, Prague 1) on July 11 at 7:30 PM, as B O D Y celebrates its wildly successful first year of existence.

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