Carcanet Press
Quote of the Day
I'm filled with admiration for what you've achieved, and particularly for the hard work and the 'cottage industry' aspect of it.
Fleur Adcock
Carcanet Archive Hour at the Rylands Library
Join our Summer Sale at Carcanet Towers
Celebrating Women in Translation
August officially marks Women in Translation Month! read more
Welcome to Carcanet Press, one of the outstanding independent literary publishers of our time. Now in its fifth decade, Carcanet publishes the most comprehensive and diverse list available of modern and classic poetry in English and in translation, as well as a range of inventive fiction, Lives and Letters and literary criticism.
Dirt Dirt William Letford
Selected Poems Selected Poems Nancy Cunard Ed. Sandeep Parmar
What Must Happen What Must Happen Jeffrey Wainwright
Playing the Octopus Playing the Octopus Mary O'Malley
The Alexandra Sequence The Alexandra Sequence John Redmond
The Number Poems The Number Poems Matthew Welton
Winter Migrants Winter Migrants Tom Pickard
Quennets Quennets Philip Terry
Beyond the Barbed Wire Beyond the Barbed Wire Abdellatif Laabi Ed. André Naffis-Sahely Tr. André Naffis-Sahely
Poem of the Day

Between Here and There

Sinead Morrisey

No one seems sure of the reason why aprons
Are tied to the necks of stone babies in temples.
The priest says 'honour'.
The guide to Kyoto City mentions 'cold
On their journey away from us to the heaven for children'.
I look at them squatting in Buddha-reflection,
Wrapped up to the throat in teddy bears and trains.


There's a graveyard for miscarriages under Ikeda Mountain
As stark as a bone-field. No flowers, tangerines, sake or aprons
But a basin of stone bodies in two parts: square body, round head.
Like oriental soldiers contained by a wall, they would go walking -
Spill over with all of the energy for life that fell out of them too soon.
Except that even in stone some bodies have opened:
Loose balls in the basin where heads have rolled.


Inside the biggest wooden building in the world
Sits Japan's greatest Buddha, one hand raised as a stop sign to evil.
The other is flat, flat with comfort and promise, flat enough
For all of us to nuzzle his thumb. His lily-flower opened.
His crossing was a falling into light.
Fall with me, he says, and you'll be raised to the heights
Of the roof of the biggest wooden building in the world.


When Nagasawa visits the house of the dead
He leaves at the door his camera and tripod
His champion karaoke voice his miracle foot massage
His classroom dynamics his rockhard atheism
And slips onto the tatami of the prayer room
As the man who can chant any you-name-it-soul
Between here and Ogaki to paradise.
Taken from 'New Poetries II'...
Share this...
The Carcanet Blog The Third Trumpmester read more 'A Bartender all my Life' by Martina Evans read more The Battle of the Somme by Owen Lowery read more My Migration Story by Karen McCarthy Woolf read more 'Definitive true art' by Hkan Sandell read more Trump Revisited read more
Arts Council Logo
We thank the Arts Council England for their support and assistance in this interactive Project.
This website ©2000-2016 Carcanet Press Ltd