PN Review Print and Online Poetry Magazine
News and Notes
PN Review Prize winners announced
Carcanet Press and PN Review are delighted to announce the winners of the first ever PN Review Prize. read more
Most Read... Drew MilneTom Raworth’s Writing
‘present past improved’: Tom Raworth’s Writing

(PN Review 236)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Alejandro Fernandez-OsorioPomace (trans. James Womack)
(PN Review 236)
Kei MillerIn the Shadow of Derek Walcott

(PN Review 235)
Kate BinghamPuddle
(PN Review 236)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
Gratis Ad 1
Gratis Ad 2
Next Issue CELEBRATING JOHN ASHBERY Contributors include Mark Ford, Marina Warner, Jeremy Over, Theophilus Kwek, Sam Riviere, Luke Kennard, Philip Terry,Agnes Lehoczky, Emily Critchley, Oli Hazard and others Miles Champion The Gold Standard Rebecca Watts The Cult of the Noble Amateur Marina Tsvetaeva ‘My desire has the features of a woman’: Two Letters translated by Christopher Whyte Iain Bamforth Black and White

This poem is taken from PN Review 211, Volume 39 Number 5, May - June 2013.

'Weddings & Deaths' and Other Poems Lucy Hamilton
Weddings & Deaths

I am papering the walls with unpublished manuscripts. I work like an artist, laying the first wash of colour over the lines of terza rima. The Prologue opens with a sun-burst of aureolin yellow, the eight tercets instantly revealing a rhythm of slightly varying breaths, the final single line rounding off the section but leaving it open, like a path with a stile. Two marginal glosses - emulated from The Rime of the Ancient Mariner - hover on the page as I daub them in. Finally my signature. The casual visitor might smile at my achievement, perhaps surprised at the childish ... or by the resemblance to his own financial bar graphs.

The Sheikh enters the room. Neither historian nor meteorologist he is both palimpsest and weather-vane. He stands in the centre of the room, head cocked to the side. He doesn't move but I know he is crossing the stile. He closes his eyes, piercing through Dante and three written languages. He begins to hum then sits on the floor, lips pursed in a whisper. Soon he is singing, body rocking to the ancient customs that scroll before his inner eye - the nomads & love-quests, the weddings & deaths - fingers plucking the oud, voice now joyful now lamenting ...

                                                                                arabic text

Women & Men

It needs the solid knowledge of a soul
Who having lived and loved in woman's body

Searching, please wait... animated waiting image