Category Death

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Moles Poem

Moles I must keep a close watch on the mole-hills clustered around the fences of my house. I feel sure there'll come a time when moles will emerge from those surprisingly massive eruptions of earth they've created - and each will be carrying binoculars and waving a flag. And the flags will not be white ones. And the binoculars will… continue reading

Putin’s Mind

It is hard to put yourself in Putin’s mind.  But how hard ? Is it impossible ? Maybe not. He looks out at the world and is much concerned with maintaining control and his own footing and security there.  Consequently, he has always been pre-occupied with strengthening and extending borders, creating safe distance between him and Other ; and he… continue reading

Volunteer pulls a trolley with food on a destroyed bridge near the city of Irpin, northwest of Kyiv on March 13, 2022. - Russian forces advance ever... Photograph by Dimitar Dilkoff : AFP via Getty Images       Reproduced by permission of the poet and translators. Find the translation of the whole poem here. The “Poems for…the wall” website has a bilingual version on its home page. It can be viewed (and downloaded from) here. Thanks to the PEN Ukraine team for helping in this.… continue reading

A Poem for the Season

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The Good of Language

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The Death of an Old Man

Yesterday, a grand and often very beautiful funeral was held, following the death of a likeable, shrewd and vivid man. It is of course hard to separate the image we are given of Prince Philip, or ourselves put onto him, from the man he actually was. He surely had a similar problem, himself. Who was he, apart from his public… continue reading

Two Poems for the Autumn

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My Way to You

I keep coming upon this poem in its folder, its digital “archive,” and it’s as if I’ve tripped up on it. It somehow sticks out, sitting meekly under “M” in its alphabetical order. But where really does it belong ? I never quite know what to make of it and yet I think it is possibly a poem I would… continue reading

Wild Honey UK 2020

  This poem above is actually a very loose translation of “Wild Honey” by the great Russian poet Anna Akhmatova.  The slightly altered title here is an acknowledgement of just how loose the translation is. The poem’s original was written (I think) in 1933. Stalin had been in power for around a decade and his purges were beginning. I do not… continue reading

Copyright © Rogan Wolf – Poet and Social Worker
In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

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