Günter Kunert

Translated from the German by Gerald Chapple

INCIDENT

The very moment
I opened the book
the letters buzzed
up and away: leaving me
with beautifully bound oblivion

Bending speechless over blank
pages of history I
no longer knew
what was what is
who I am
can be want to be
will be

Agitated scribes
leapt around with giant nets
brought me their catch
then shook the tired remnants
back into their proper places.

Osiris 68, 2009

Elegy 3

Finally at four in the morning

silence comes. A long time on the way

from its forgotten source

and almost unexpected.

For a moment in the grey of dawn

you’re overwhelmed by its mercy.

Osiris 89, 2019

Bookstores Carry Osiris!

OSIRIS is available at: 

Amherst Books—Amherst, Massachusetts 01002 

Booklink Booksellers—Northampton, Massachusetts 01060

City Lights Books—San Francisco, California 94111

Librairie Gallimard—Montréal, Québec H2X 2V4

Grolier Poetry Bookshop—Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138

Malvern Books—Austin, Texas 78705

The Strand Bookstore—New York, New York 10003 

Reading January 15-March 31, 2026

Osiris 101 will be ready for distribution towards the end of December 2025 or in early January 2026.

The Reading Period for Osiris 102 begins January 15, 2026 and ends March 31.

Osiris does not publish any text written with the aid of AI, nor do we publish previously published material. We believe in the integrity of the writer and in the integrity of their work. The hand of the writer, their spirit, their vision, their quirks and idiosyncrasies are all part of the text. Let us continue to celebrate the beauty of imperfection.

George Moore

When Birds Were Saints on Cruachán Aigli

The eagles have gone by way of the west

in the rush of the sea and birds flit stir 

occasionally landing on the stack’s steep crown

where pilgrims yearly climb in adoration

And here the fog caught me in its deep wakeful sleep

closed in around me like the clouds of heaven

from some children’s story of golden streets

and pillowy white avenues of cotton but

not before I caught a glimpse of the eagle

its shadowy image on the pallet of white

flying overhead calling out the magi’s names 

the ones who had disappeared with the Cross

A skeptic myself I squatted in the fog

and drank from a plastic hipflask of clear water

not blessed or even drawn from a holy Celtic well

but carried up hours of rough track to the summit 

drank and refreshed myself in the white silence

close to the sky but without a clear view

and I heard the magi call and the anchors 

of the earth drag along through the lost names

as through all the gods were gathering again

on the eagle’s strong wings

Ray Keifetz

When I listen to Russian Music

When I listen to Russian music

snow begins to fall.

I pull on overcoats

that come with the records,

coat over coat over coat,

and leave my home forever.

When I listen to Russian music

I search for children in the drifts.

I have only the coats on my back.

My pockets are empty.

When I listen to Russian music

poverty is no disgrace.

I cover cold children

coat by coat

and stay until they wake.

Alone on the road,

I listen to Russian music

wrapped in wool

from throat to soul

against the bitter summer.

Adriano de Luna

La Senna

In fondo
in ognuno di noi
c’è una Senna
avvitata e contorta
snodata e sgranata
debordante e cangiante
fluente e degradante
verso le nostre assenze
diluita nelle attese
dileguata in capillari ramati
Con lampioni ai lati
e gialli e tenui
con ponti azzuccherati e nebbiosi
con pioggia fine
C’è una Senna
tortuosa e impetuosa
ingabbiata da argini e panchine
nubi basse e voragini radicate
inurbamenti statici e dolori fusi