Translated by Romana Iorga It’s not here, the golden arrow of the sun. The day’s dusky blades rustle in the town square—teeth rarely
Translated by Romana Iorga It’s not here, the golden arrow of the sun. The day’s dusky blades rustle in the town square—teeth rarely
With this issue, Cider Press Review enters into its twenty-eighth year of publishing the best new poetry in English. In the first issue of
Translated by Romana Iorga Gather all you have left and get out of here. Leave this house, be off in your worn-out shoes,