Table of Contents | June 24 2019
In this issue, a poem in Amazigh translated into French, and then English; memory, abyss, dreams that can kill; and a spider's curse and blessing,
By: K.A. Teryna
Translated by: Alex Shvartsman
At eight years of age, I almost stopped sleeping. When I did manage to fall asleep, I found myself in the worst of nightmares. My ability to remain aware in the dream and to control the surrounding dream world lit me up like a beacon in the darkness. Every moment I felt the unkind attention of Morpheus upon me.
Тогда, в восемь лет, я почти перестал спать, а если всё-таки засыпал, оказывался в худшем из кошмаров. Моя способность осознавать себя во сне и управлять миром сновидений подсвечивала меня в темноте. Каждое мгновение я чувствовал на себе недоброе внимание Морфея.
By: Houyem Ferchichi
Translated by: Ali Znaidi
The boughs of the olive tree branch out on the large room’s window, which opens onto a folktale repeated by the villagers about a spider inhabiting the old house on the plateau. A distorted spider whose shape swelled as it captured profane spirits. Alien faces to the village were caught in its nets: men with unkempt hair and beards, unpleasant faces in veils, and jelly-like features that came to hide in the spider's web.
تتفرع أغصان شجرة الزيتون على شباك الغرفة الكبيرة المفتوح على خرافة  يرددها القريون عن عنكبوت تسكن البيت القديم الذي يتراءى على الهضبة. عنكبوت مسخ تضخم شكلها وهي تواصل أسر الأرواح المدنسة. لقد علقت بين شباكها وجوه غريبة على القرية، رجال بشعور ولحي مشعثة، ووجوه متفسخة وراء النقاب، ملامح هلامية جاءت للتخفي في بيت العنكبوت...
By: Hawad
Translated by: André Naffis-Sahely
Translated by: Hélène Claudot-Hawad
L’exil m’érode, tige dans la tempête de duneLes vertiges, nausées du sevrage, me renversentchiffon que le vent agitesur les piquets des campements désertés
Strange Horizons
In this Samovar fiction podcast, we present Houyem Ferchichi's "The Spider's Widow," as translated by Ali Znaidi and read by Laura Friis.
Strange Horizons
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