- Mark Olival-Bartley
- Mark Olival-Bartley studied applied linguistics at Hawaii Pacific University, attaining B.A. and M.A. degrees in Teaching English as a Second Language, and poetry at the City College of New York. He is now writing a dissertation on the sonnets of E. A. Robinson at LMU, where he tutors composition alongside editing flyers on poetry and style. His poems and translations have appeared in journals on both sides of the Atlantic. He is the resident poet at EcoHealth, where his science-themed verse is regularly featured, and a senior copyeditor at Review of International American Studies. He also teaches at Münchner Volkshochschule and leads the Amerikahaus Literaturkreis.
by Durs Grünbein
Translated by Mark Olival-Bartley
Perhaps it was the place of rest they'd sought
lifelong for and then yet soon forgotten.
They looked up and saw nothing more to see.
All dreamt of peace. Legions decamped distraught,
for it'd been so hard to find: On no lawn
nor mountain path nor strand with view to sea.
Ah yes, the moon. They recognized its leer,
this pallid Easter egg. It hung as blown
above the cities' light haze year to year.
Note: A recitation can be heard here.