Eponine Howarth is co-editor-in-chief of La Piccioletta Barca.
No poems today only more “grinding” stone.
I feared... not the great love.
I started writing poetry when I was 16 or 17.
They sit under the mulberry tree and converse without chattering ...
When i crush an ant without meaning to i look for all the others and kill them ...
[The] atrocious academic style was bleeding over. I mean, the PhD dissertation is the world’s worst genre.
I am here in the world
There is no more dreadful punishment ...
The rain is expected to pass. The winds are expected to arrive. It is hoped. It is said. For love of silence ...
Life short or long, everything we live is reduced to a grey residue in memory. From the old journeys remain...
‘Y en el juego angustioso de un espejo frente a otro cae mi voz y mi voz que madura y mi voz quemadura...
I recently told Nacho, the editor of Paraphrasis, that I would engage in the translation of a painting. I have long...
In this episode, Eleonora speaks to Eponine Howarth about: diplomat, writer, film director, Romain Gary...
I wouldn’t exactly say that Rawls is my muse.
Poems by Jacques Prévert translated by E.H.
Cultivating a garden for a prolonged period of time and subsequently ruining it is frustrating.
The very act of remembering can change memories. Both tucking away an old memory or building a new one...
I became Umberto Eco’s Model Reader for a week. This was neither an easy decision, nor a simple task.
We punctuate a life, as we punctuate a story, or a poem. It’s the art of cutting, pacing, harnessing, detaching...
In France, every new edition of the dictionary Le Petit Larousse removes around five hundred words.
