translation

Bits – Descriptive painting

by Marius Surleac A big large room, 2 matches, 1 bulb which flickers, 3 silhouettes: 1 boy and 2 girls, one bottle of water, 2…

Ash Wednesday

by Romulus Balkan (Romania) Translated from Romanian by the author  Edited by Robert Fenhagen    The dog lying in the corner is howling an oddly…

The Defeat

by Mihai Mateiu (Romania) Translated from Romanian by Rareş Moldovan for the Romanian version, click here As the final whistle blows, the scoreboard shows 2-0. The…

On the Edge of the World

by Aurel Stănescu Avram (Romania)  Translated  from Romanian by Monica Becheru Edited by Robert Fenhagen   A few years ago, one of my bad habits usually happened…

Chasing time

by Monica Trif  (Romania) Translation from Romanian by Irina Savin  Edited by Robert Fenhagen   Adrian rushed from the house, made his way as best he…

Framework

Alexandru Potcoava:
The three ladies, Adel, Juliana and Medi, started their trip to the vegetable market. Medi led the way out of the apartment, pulling her leash tight. Drawn with open arms between the dog and the old lady, Juliana was trying to keep the crew together. Swinging on Adel’s bony hand the empty nest tote bag was the only unfazed partaker of this picture.

What’s to Remain of the PhD?

by Andrei Marga translated from Romanian by Stâncel Theodora-Eva Once the PhD was considered to be the key to scientific formation. The subject and the…

The Age of the Void?

by Andrei Marga translated from Romanian by Stâncel Theodora-Eva The expansion of the “cynical reason”- of that consideration of people that rather takes into account…

Krepkaya

by Adrian Ioniţă (USA) Translation from Romanian by Manuela Cazan pentru versiunea română click aici     It’s funny to watch the world from above, looking through…

Conspiracy

Karel Cispic:
A chuckle died in his throat as he realized fully what he was about to do. Shovel after shovel of dried dirt flew in back of him until the magic moment when he hit wood. He could tell by the solid thudding sound that metal made against wood. It was a satisfying sound. An organic sound. Thud, thump. Thump, thump. He used the blade of the shovel to pry open the casket. No smell came out, but the sight was not a pleasant one. Pavel’s emaciated and very dead face had a rictus grin that sent a fright up Karel’s spine. The dead poet seemed to be smiling at him.