Most Read... Rebecca WattsThe Cult of the Noble Amateur
(PN Review 239)
John McAuliffeBill Manhire in Conversation with John McAuliffe
(PN Review 259)
Eavan BolandA Lyric Voice at Bay
(PN Review 121)
Patricia CraigVal Warner: A Reminiscence
(PN Review 259)
Vahni CapildeoOn Judging Prizes, & Reading More than Six Really Good Books
(PN Review 237)
Tim Parksin conversation with Natalia Ginzburg
(PN Review 49)
Next Issue Hal Coase 'Ochre Pitch' Gregory Woods 'On Queerness' Kirsty Gunn 'On Risk! Carl Phillips' Galina Rymbu 'What I Haven't Written' translated by Sasha Dugdale Gabriel Josipovici 'No More Stories' Valerie Duff-Strautmann 'Anne Carson's Wrong Norma'
Poems Articles Interviews Reports Reviews Contributors
PN Review 276
PN Review Substack

This poem is taken from PN Review 242, Volume 44 Number 6, July - August 2018.

So Much April in October translated by Jordi Doce and Lawrence Schimel

Translated from the Spanish by Jordi Doce and Lawrence Schimel
Jorge Riechmann
‘When the roof flies off the house of language
& words no longer give shelter, I speak.’
       — Alejandra Pizarnik


1
So much pain written on this body.
So much light flooding these clear eyes.
The rose is without reason –
you knew that already.
Pain is always without purpose.

2
In the hospital time is warped.
It follows different patterns:
hot milk at four and eleven,
breakfast at nine,
so many pills in little plastic cups,
blood pressure measured morning and night,
doctor’s visits at ten more or less,
lunch at one, so early…
...


Searching, please wait... animated waiting image