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    The God of Submission Loves Gentle Calves and Other Poems –  Yuliya Musakovska

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    Calixto Robles and Ancestral Spirits in the Mission – A Conversation on Art, Society and Social Action

    Hence, the walruses will keep our memories – Poems from Ikaro Valderrama’s Tengri: The Book of Mysteries

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    “When Crimea Was Not a Grief”: Six Poems by Lyudmyla Khersonska, from 21st Century Ukraine

    Of Hunger and Tents: Poems from Gaza by Yousef el-Qedra

    Of Hunger and Tents: Poems from Gaza by Yousef el-Qedra

    Ratko Lalić’s painting, a little Noah’s ark –  Božidar Stanišić  

    The region suddenly turned into a deciduous forest. Poems by Paulami Sengupta

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    A False Dimension: regarding the empty walls – Aritra Sanyal

  • Fiction
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    The Importance of Being Imperfect – Haroonuzzaman

    THE STATE – Hamim Faruque

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    Tempus Fugit (in D Minor) – Michele Carenini

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    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    A Mirage of a Dream – Kazi Rafi

    Prologue to “Maya and the World of the Spirits” – Gaius Tsaamo

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    RETRIBUTION – Mojaffor Hossain

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    A Nation’s Reckoning on a Rickshaw: Photogallery from Bangladesh in turmoil – Melina and Pina Piccolo

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    A Nation’s Reckoning on a Rickshaw: Photogallery from Bangladesh in turmoil – Melina and Pina Piccolo

    The Amatory Rainy Night – Kazi Rafi

    Chapter 1 of “Come What May”, a detective story set in Gaza, by Ahmed Masoud

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    Requiem for a Mattanza – Gia Marie Amella

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    Langston Hughes: Shakespeare in Harlem – Barry David Horwitz

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    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    Understanding the Quintessential Divinity: Binding the Two Geographies – Haroonuzzaman

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    Michelle Reale’s Volta: An Italian-American Reckoning With Race. Necessary turnabouts as  Columbus Day returns amidst Sinners’ vampires – Pina Piccolo

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    Area Sacra at Torre di Largo Argentina —or, Calpurnia’s Dream – Laura Hinton

    from The Creative Process: TIOKASIN GHOSTHORSE, interviewed by Mia Funk and Melannie Munoz

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    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    From The Stony Guests, Part IV: SIRAN BAKIRCI and SAIT B. KARAKAYA – Neil P. Doherty

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    Chaos Theory – Michele Carenini

    Of People and Puppets, Kingdoms of Silence, Trauma and Storytelling: Review of “Azad, the rabbit and the wolf – Pina Piccolo

    Of People and Puppets, Kingdoms of Silence, Trauma and Storytelling: Review of “Azad, the rabbit and the wolf – Pina Piccolo

    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    Poetry is also born from Gesture – Ikaro Valderrama on Gestos de la Poesia, transnational poetry, multimedia and the energy of the Andes

    Poetry is also born from Gesture – Ikaro Valderrama on Gestos de la Poesia, transnational poetry, multimedia and the energy of the Andes

    A loneliness like an endless steppe – Poems from Maria Vezzali’s collection Home Ghost

    A loneliness like an endless steppe – Poems from Maria Vezzali’s collection Home Ghost

    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    Once the veil of artifice falls away: Poems by Haroonuzzaman

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    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

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    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

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    THE DREAMING MACHINE ISSUE N. 11 WILL BE OUT ON DEC. 10

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    REFUGEE TALES July 3-5:  Register for a Walk In Solidarity with Refugees, Asylum Seekers and Detainees

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  • Home
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    The God of Submission Loves Gentle Calves and Other Poems –  Yuliya Musakovska

    The God of Submission Loves Gentle Calves and Other Poems – Yuliya Musakovska

    Calixto Robles and Ancestral Spirits in the Mission – A Conversation on Art, Society and Social Action

    Hence, the walruses will keep our memories – Poems from Ikaro Valderrama’s Tengri: The Book of Mysteries

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    “When Crimea Was Not a Grief”: Six Poems by Lyudmyla Khersonska, from 21st Century Ukraine

    Of Hunger and Tents: Poems from Gaza by Yousef el-Qedra

    Of Hunger and Tents: Poems from Gaza by Yousef el-Qedra

    Ratko Lalić’s painting, a little Noah’s ark –  Božidar Stanišić  

    The region suddenly turned into a deciduous forest. Poems by Paulami Sengupta

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    A False Dimension: regarding the empty walls – Aritra Sanyal

  • Fiction
    The Spanish Steps, Revisited: A Temporary Exhibition – A conversation with Sheila Pepe

    The Importance of Being Imperfect – Haroonuzzaman

    THE STATE – Hamim Faruque

    THE STATE – Hamim Faruque

    Tempus Fugit (in D Minor) – Michele Carenini

    Tempus Fugit (in D Minor) – Michele Carenini

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    A Mirage of a Dream – Kazi Rafi

    Prologue to “Maya and the World of the Spirits” – Gaius Tsaamo

    Prologue to “Maya and the World of the Spirits” – Gaius Tsaamo

    RETRIBUTION – Mojaffor Hossain

    RETRIBUTION – Mojaffor Hossain

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    Between Two Lives – Mojaffor Hossain

    A Nation’s Reckoning on a Rickshaw: Photogallery from Bangladesh in turmoil – Melina and Pina Piccolo

    The Amatory Rainy Night – Kazi Rafi

    Chapter 1 of “Come What May”, a detective story set in Gaza, by Ahmed Masoud

    Come What May, chpt. 11 – Ahmed Masoud

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    Calixto Robles and Ancestral Spirits in the Mission – A Conversation on Art, Society and Social Action

    That is the Face – Appadurai Muttulingam

    Langston Hughes: Shakespeare in Harlem – Barry David Horwitz

    Langston Hughes: Shakespeare in Harlem – Barry David Horwitz

    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

    Understanding the Quintessential Divinity: Binding the Two Geographies – Haroonuzzaman

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    From The Stony Guests, Part IV: SIRAN BAKIRCI and SAIT B. KARAKAYA – Neil P. Doherty

    Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

    Chaos Theory – Michele Carenini

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    The Creeping of the Spirit of the Times and Other Poems – Pina Piccolo

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    Poetry is also born from Gesture – Ikaro Valderrama on Gestos de la Poesia, transnational poetry, multimedia and the energy of the Andes

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    A loneliness like an endless steppe – Poems from Maria Vezzali’s collection Home Ghost

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    Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

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    HAIR IN THE WIND – Calling on poets to join international project in solidarity with the women of Iran

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    RUCKSACK – GLOBAL POETRY PATCHWORK PROJECT

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Explorers of Consciousness – A glance at contemporary feminist poetry in India (Part II), Le Voci della Luna

Courtesy of Le Voci della Luna, issue n. 79 of March, which contains the following poems by Sanghamitra Halder and Mandrakranta Sen with their Italian translation

December 1, 2021
in Poetry, The dreaming machine n 9
Explorers of Consciousness  – A glance at contemporary feminist poetry in India (Part I)
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Part I of the section named “Esploratrici della coscienza” (Explorers of consciousness), containing Nandini Sahu’s introduction and poems by Saanjukta Bandyopadhyay, Tanya Chakraborty and Debarati Mitra appeared in The Dreaming Machine n. 8,  December 2020.

Sanghamitra Halder

 

Light-gloom

Luce – Tenebre

I feel to say, you grow up

Grow more, overcome this shoulder

The way an insignificant insect walks through

 

I see the insect walks just like that

So innocent

As if no one has been ever marked present in this earth

As if this earth will be pregnant now

 

I discover myself in the lashes of that wish

 

The siren in the brain appears, with its legs wet

Mi sento di dire, si cresce

Si continua a crescere, si supera questa spalla

Come l’attraversamento di un insetto insignificante

 

Vedo l’insetto camminare proprio così

Tanto innocente

Come se su questa terra non fosse mai stata registrata la presenza di nessuno

Come se ora questa terra s’ingravidasse

 

Mi scopro nelle ciglia di quel desiderio

 

Nel cervello appare la sirena, con le gambe bagnate

 

 

Nah

Naa

Nah, this is not such an emotion

That you may treasure it in a box

 

I only know

I have no eligibility to go into the crowd

Never had the eligibility to be solitary as well

I feel a twin today

There is a sapling coming out of me

 

That journey doesn’t end in the eyes

They would go for a walk wherever the eyes wish

Naa, questa non è proprio un’emozione

Da custodire in uno scrigno

 

So solo

Che non sono qualificata a entrare nella folla

Né sono mai stata qualificata alla solitudine

Oggi mi sento gemella

Fuoriesce da me un virgulto

 

Non è negli occhi che termina quel viaggio

Vanno a farsi due passi dove l’occhio comanda

 

 

Lost home

Casa persa

I would go home – there is a remembrance in these words

The healing of people’s depression and

There is an ancient entwined house too

A wild bird hidden in a gentleman’s breast

 

As if I want to be separate and alone

From your gatherings at the very first chance

 

As if I want to be the referee of the sandalwood grove

Who has become a legend by being rumoured

Andavo a casa  –  in queste parole c’è il ricordo

 

Gente che guarisce dalla depressione e

C’è anche un’antica casa intrecciata

Un uccello selvatico nascosto nel petto di un gentiluomo

 

Come volessi essere sola e allontanarmi

Il prima possibile dai vostri raduni

 

Come volessi essere l’arbitro del bosco di sandalo

Divenuto leggenda a furor di voci

 

 

Hey…

Ehi…

Who else mesmerizes all day long

Tell me, who else is there except you

This journey from who to whom

 

Water overtakes the veins

Obliterate these healing nerves if you can

O unknowing, take me to your wonderful unknowing

 

Bring me to your passion face to face

Chi altro affascina tutto il giorno

Dimmi, chi altro c’è se non tu

Questo viaggio da chi a che

 

L’acqua supera le vene

Distruggi se puoi questi nervi in via di guarigione

Oh ignaro, portami verso la tua meravigliosa inconsapevolezza

 

Portami faccia a faccia alla tua passione

Italian translation by Pina Piccolo

 

 

 

Sanghamitra Halder is a Bengali poet and prose writer, born in Kolkata in 1984. She holds a Masters in Bengali Language and Literature. Her first poem was published in 2004 and so far she has published five collections. Her writings have appeared in a large number of literary journals and anthologies and have been translated into English, Spanish and Italian. He has participated in various collective literary projects both in India and abroad. With Animikh Patra she is co-founder and co-director of the literary magazine “Duniyaadaari”, which often has joint projects with both La Macchina Sognante and The Dreaming Machine.

***

 

 

 

Mandrakranta Sen

 

 

Offering

Offerta

Not even a grain of salt, you only have your wish

Cook with your tears, girl, tear is also saltish

Make a full course of menu, a full course of suffering

Sour dream, sweet envy, oh please don’t miss a thing!

Keep it to the east, to the south some lemon to taste

Keep wind to the north, a sleeping oven to the west

Now the ritual is done, shut all the doors and pray

The time has come, girl, today is the ultimate day –

Don’t let him run away from these offerings you’ve made

Onto the dish of God, girl, serve your own bloody head.

Nemmeno un pizzico di sale, non hai che il desiderio

Cucina con le tue lacrime, ragazza, anche le lacrime sanno di sale.

Realizza un menù completo, con tutte le portate di sofferenza

Un sogno andato a male, dolce invidia, e per favore, non dimenticare una cosa!

Disponiili a est, a sud qualche goccia di limone

Con  il vento dal nord, il forno sonnacchioso

a ovest

Ora il rito è compiuto, chiudi le porte e prega

È giunto il momento, ragazza, oggi è l’ultimo giorno –

Non lasciarlo scappare da queste offerte che hai preparato

Sul piatto del Dio, ragazza, servigli la tua testa mozzata.

 

Left and right

A sinistra e a destra

Don’t want to call. Still … please wait a bit.

Worship hall to your right, to the left is a red-light street.

 

Which one do you desire? Think man, think real hard –

Here are the two worlds smeared with menstrual blood.

 

Don’t want to leave you. But that’s the inevitable course.

Alter of Goddess to the right, to the left a colony of whores.

 

Where do you desire to go? Think man, think, and tell me

Where would you find your blood-smeared happiness’s key?

 

Don’t wanna tell you. Yet for truth’s sake just let me tell

You’ve heaven on your right, on your left, well, you’ve got hell

 

You think you can manage both the sides? Very smart!

 

I am your Goddess, man, believe me, I am your tart

Non voglio che chiami. Ancora… per favore aspetta un po’.

Alla tua destra la sala del culto, a sinistra

una strada a luci rosse.

 

Quale delle due desideri? Pensa, uomo, pensa intensamente –

Sono qui i due mondi imbrattati dal sangue mestruale.

 

Non voglio lasciarti. Ma sarà la conseguenza inevitabile.

Altari di Dee sulla destra, a sinistra una colonia di prostitute.

 

Dove desideri andare? Pensa, uomo, pensa e dimmelo

Dove potresti trovare la chiave sporca di sangue della tua felicità?

 

Non voglio rivelartelo. Ma per amore di verità lascia che io lo dica

Alla tua destra hai il paradiso, e a sinistra, tu lo sai bene, hai l’inferno

 

Pensi di riuscire a cavartela da entrambi i lati? Davvero intelligente!

 

Sono io tua Dea, uomo, credimi, e sono la tua puttana

 

 

The sari

Il sari

On the floor, in that room, the sari lay in a mess

The young woman was so witless

Leaving even that, at midnight she stepped out of the door

There, outside, lay an indefinite field… evermore …

 

She thought rather than being sold every night

One day, rowing down the darkness, she might

Reach the wharf far away from this dark pit

Woman’s life is all about drifting about, and she knew it.

 

She was a stupid girl. Darkness was never her boat.

At every single turn the river too strangled her throat.

To drift along one must know how to swim

But she hadn’t even learnt to float (what a whim!)

 

The inevitable happened, as soon as she unmoored the raft

The primeval world never muffed –

From nowhere it pierced her bare body, right to the hilt

Darkness is not alone … saprophytes swarmed in the field …

 

After the gang rape, her corpse lay on the bare land

Strangled with her torn blouse. And

Two-three days later some people buried her in a hurry

 

In that old room came a new girl, wrapped in that relinquished sari…

Sul pavimento, in quella stanza, è steso un sari scompigliato

La giovane donna era così confusa

da aver lasciato anche quello, a mezzanotte quando si spinse fuori dalla porta

là, al di fuori, si estendeva uno spazio indefinito… per sempre…

 

Lei pensava che invece di vendersi tutte le notti

un giorno, remando nell’oscurità, avrebbe potuto

raggiungere il porto, lontano da questa scura fossa

La vita di una donna è tutta in un andare alla deriva, e lei lo sapeva.

 

Era una stupida. L’oscurità non fu mai la sua imbarcazione.

A ogni singola ansa anche il fiume le strozzava la gola.

Andando alla deriva si deve imparare a nuotare

Ma lei non aveva mai imparato a galleggiare (che inutile capriccio!)

 

L’inevitabile accadde. Non appena lei ebbe smontato dalla zattera.

Il mondo primordiale non si è mai acquietato –

da non so dove penetrò il corpo nudo di lei, fino all’impugnatura.

L’oscurità non è solitudine… funghi e batteri brulicavano nel prato…

 

Dopo lo stupro di gruppo, il suo cadavere restò sulla terra nuda

strangolato con la camicetta strappata. E

due tre giorni più tardi alcuni balordi gli diedero fuoco in tutta fretta.

 

In quella stanza antica giunse una ragazza nuova, avvolta in quel sari dimenticato…

 

Italian translation by Loredana Magazzeni

 

Born in 1972 in Calcutta, Mandrakranta Sen began to establish herself on the feminist poetic scene in the 1990s. After debuting in 1999 with Hriday abadhyo meye, she has published twenty-six other books of poetry. She has received several literary awards and is also a very committed activist.

Tags: consciousnessfeelingsfeminist poetryIndiainterjectionslanguagele Voci della LunalongingLoredana MagazzeniMandrakranta Senpatriarcal rulePoetryprostitutionrapeSanghamitra HalderWest Bengalwoemn's agencywomen's rights
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BLACK WOMAN: VARIATIONS The woman in my portraits is a figure who has been following me for a long time. ...

May 7, 2019
WRITTEN ON THE TONGUE – Andrew Joron
Fiction

WRITTEN ON THE TONGUE – Andrew Joron

Cover artwork by Ginevra Cave.                                                 for John Yau The argument: A fleet of four neo-Soviet starships has crashed into ...

December 5, 2023

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Michelle Reale’s Volta: An Italian-American Reckoning With Race. Necessary turnabouts as  Columbus Day returns amidst Sinners’ vampires – Pina Piccolo

Michelle Reale’s Volta: An Italian-American Reckoning With Race. Necessary turnabouts as Columbus Day returns amidst Sinners’ vampires – Pina Piccolo

May 6, 2025
Eva Bovenzi: The inner world. The artist in conversation with curator Camilla Boemio

Area Sacra at Torre di Largo Argentina —or, Calpurnia’s Dream – Laura Hinton

May 5, 2025
The Spanish Steps, Revisited: A Temporary Exhibition – A conversation with Sheila Pepe

The Importance of Being Imperfect – Haroonuzzaman

May 5, 2025
from The Creative Process: TIOKASIN GHOSTHORSE, interviewed by Mia Funk and Melannie Munoz

from The Creative Process: TIOKASIN GHOSTHORSE, interviewed by Mia Funk and Melannie Munoz

May 4, 2025

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Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live
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Memorial Reading Marathon for Julio Monteiro Martins, Dec. 27, zoom live

by Pina Piccolo
5 months ago
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December 24, 2024 marks ten years since the premature passing of Brazilian/Italian writer Julio Monteiro Martins, important cultural figure from...

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