There stood that creature

By Like the cleanest dove in the sky. Like the most beautiful swan in the lake, There came the named creature from heavens of above. Mother was her name, mother they named her. Through her restless nights, To her tiring mornings,...

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The Bloody Epitaph

By: Partaw Naderi Translated by: Sarah Maguire & Yama Yari This palm tree has no hope of spring This palm tree blossoms with a hundred wounds — the daily wounds of a thousand tragedies — the nightly wounds of a thousand calamities This palm tree is a bloody epitaph at the crossroads of...

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The Green Tribe of Hope

Several years ago I was researching an article for Newsweek on the resurgence of poetry in post-Taliban Afghanistan. Although Iraq subsequently pushed the article off that magazine’s pages, and I had to endure the anti-American sermons of smug Norwegian do-gooders, one good thing came out...

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