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Forrest Gander Shortlisted for The Premio Valle Inclán
Forrest Gander has been shortlisted for the Premio Valle Inclán for his translation of It Must Be a Misunderstanding by Coral Bracho! read more
Wong May Wins Lucien Stryk Asian Translation Prize
We're thrilled to announce that In the Same Light: 200 Tang Poems for Our Century, translated and edited by Wong May, has won the 2023 Lucien Stryk Asian Translation Prize! read more
Wong May Shortlisted for National Translation Award
In the Same Light: 200 Tang Poems for Our Century, translated and edited by Wong May, has been shortlisted for a 2023 National Translation Award in Poetry by the American Literary Translators Association (ALTA)! read more
Welcome to Carcanet Press, one of the outstanding independent literary publishers of our time. Now in its sixth decade, Carcanet publishes the most comprehensive and diverse list available of modern and classic poetry in English and in translation, as well as inventive fiction, Lives and Letters and critical writing.

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The Devil Prefers Mozart The Devil Prefers Mozart Anthony Burgess Ed. Paul Phillips
Sea-Fever Sea-Fever John Masefield Ed. Philip Errington
Child Ballad Child Ballad David Wheatley
Poems, Stories and Writings (2e) Poems, Stories and Writings (2e) Margaret Tait Ed. Sarah Neely
Selected and New Poems Selected and New Poems John F. Deane
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Poem of the Day

Majid Sits in a Tree and Sings

Rebecca Cullen

This morning, I wake with a bird in my heart.
My mother smiles only for me. I bash my car into the wall.
Sometimes she tells me to be quiet. Today, she laughs.

The men came in the hottest part of the day.
A walk, my love, a small walk, she says.
In the stairwell, the mothers hold their children.

The guns shine in the sun. I am a man,
this is no time for play, I do not hide.
We shuffle in, look for a seat in the stands.

A big black bird comes down from the sky.
 The grown-ups hold their breath. They are blinking a lot.
The bird likes the meat hanging on the goalposts.

Tonight, my mother says I can sleep in her bed.
I make my back into a curved shell against her legs.
She strokes her palm across my forehead.

In the middle of the night, I watch her on her knees.
She tips her head backwards. I see all of her neck.
Taken from 'New Poetries VII'...
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The Carcanet Blog Sea-Fever: John Masefield read more Poems, Stories and Writings: Margaret Tait read more Selected and New Poems: John F. Deane read more Child Ballad: David Wheatley read more Hell, I Love Everybody: James Tate read more PN Review 273: Editorial read more
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