“Movement against loss. Summer has its autumnal thoughts. / Bets made with your own body.” So begins Malgorzata Lebda’s poem “Trigger Points” in Mira Rosenthal’s translation of Mer de Glace. I keep thinking of Rosenthal’s translation notes for the collection,
“Movement against loss. Summer has its autumnal thoughts. / Bets made with your own body.” So begins Malgorzata Lebda’s poem “Trigger Points” in Mira Rosenthal’s translation of Mer de Glace. I keep thinking of Rosenthal’s translation notes for the collection,
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