Size / / /

Content warning:


translating himagsikan

yes, blood blossoms bright.
dadanak muli ang dugo, aking mahal.
out of its petals we'll raise the sun our ancestors lost
hahawiin ng sinag ang mapanlinlang na himpapawid
ripping orange through the smoke-clot sky, scarlet mouth, womb
bubuksan ang pulang bukid ng mga patay, katawang hinugot
stretched-strung-- violet expanse deep as bruises, a violence of cloud. our wrists
mula sa duguang ugat ng kalayaan. kinain ng ulap ang aking dila
ache: the rainless days are upon us, the air gapes for our bones. atop manila's walls
nang kinuha ng mga sundalo ang aking ina. sunugin, sunugin daw.
we burn. tongues of dry lightning split our skin open: still our mothers say
wala nang hiwaga sa mundo, kung ‘di man uyaying linamon ng dilim,
time will heal all wounds. even war. Anitun Tabu keens cobalt overhead, wheeling wide.
mainit na kamay sa aking pisngi. wala nang ibabalik pa. ito lamang:
look, the stars above our ember cities. soon the bayonets we broke will echo
rosaryong tanikala sa ating mga braso, kapirasong buwan sa buto
the old thirsts, the new songs we sing, our voices lifting dark and clear in the ruins
abo at lindol sa lalamunan, awit ng uhaw at kidlat, huni ng pangakong
when we return our names, free at last, at last, to the waiting sea.
lulunurin ng alon pati ang ating pangalan, lulunurin ang lahat.

translating revolution

yes, blood blossoms bright.
blood will flow deep once again, my love.
out of its petals we'll raise the sun our ancestors lost
searing blaze will part the treacherous skies
to rip orange through the smoke-clot sky, scarlet mouth, womb
will open the red fields of the dead, bodies wrenched
stretched-strung-- violet expanse deep as bruises, a violence of cloud. our wrists
from the blood-vein roots of freedom. the clouds ate my tongue
ache: the rainless days are upon us, the air gapes for our bones. atop manila's walls
as the soldiers took my mother. burn. they said: burn.
we burn. tongues of dry lightning split our skin open: still our mothers say
there is no more magic in the world, if not the lullabies the dark devoured,
time will heal all wounds. even war. Anitun Tabu keens cobalt overhead, wheeling wide.
hands hot on my cheek. there is nothing more to bring back. only this:
look, the stars above our ember cities. soon the bayonets we broke will echo
rosaries shackled to our arms, fragments of the moon in bone
the old thirsts, the new songs we sing, our voices lifting dark and clear in the ruins
ash and earthquake in throat, song of thirst and lightning, birdcall of the promise
when we return our names, free at last, at last, to the waiting sea.
the waves will drown even-also our names, will drown it all.



Dimas Ilaw is a Filipino writer. Their email is bagonglakambini@gmail.com.
Current Issue
30 Jan 2023

In January 2022, the reviews department at Strange Horizons, led at the time by Maureen Kincaid Speller, published our first special issue with a focus on SF criticism. We were incredibly proud of this issue, and heartened by how many people seemed to feel, with us, that criticism of the kind we publish was important; that it was creative, transformative, worthwhile. We’d been editing the reviews section for a few years at this point, and the process of putting together this special, and the reception it got, felt like a kind of renewal—a reminder of why we cared so much.
It is probably impossible to understand how transformative all of this could be unless you have actually been on the receiving end.
Some of our reviewers offer recollections of Maureen Kincaid Speller.
Criticism was equally an extension of Maureen’s generosity. She not only made space for the text, listening and responding to its own otherness, but she also made space for her readers. Each review was an invitation, a gift to inquire further, to think more deeply and more sensitively about what it is we do when we read.
When I first told Maureen Kincaid Speller that A Closed and Common Orbit was among my favourite current works of science fiction she did not agree with me. Five years later, I'm trying to work out how I came to that perspective myself.
Cloud Atlas can be expressed as ABC[P]YZY[P]CBA. The Actual Star , however, would be depicted as A[P]ZA[P]ZA[P]Z (and so on).
In the vast traditions that inspire SF worldbuilding, what will be reclaimed and reinvented, and what will be discarded? How do narratives on the periphery speak to and interact with each other in their local contexts, rather than in opposition to the dominant structures of white Western hegemonic culture? What dynamics and possibilities are revealed in the repositioning of these narratives?
a ghostly airship / sorting and discarding to a pattern that isn’t available to those who are part of it / now attempting to deal with the utterly unknowable
Most likely you’d have questioned the premise, / done it well and kindly then moved on
In this special episode of Critical Friends, the Strange Horizons SFF criticism podcast, reviews editors Aisha Subramanian and Dan Hartland introduce audio from a 2018 recording for Jonah Sutton-Morse’s podcast Cabbages and Kings which included Maureen Kincaid Speller discussing with Aisha and Jonah three books: Everfair by Nisi Shawl, Temporary People by Deepak Unnikrishnan, and The Winged Histories by Sofia Samatar.
Wednesday: HellSans by Ever Dundas 
Thursday: Everything for Everyone: An Oral History of the New York Commune, 2052-2072 by M. E. O'Brien and Eman Abdelhadi 
Friday: House of the Dragon Season One 
Issue 23 Jan 2023
Issue 16 Jan 2023
Issue 9 Jan 2023
Strange Horizons
2 Jan 2023
Welcome, fellow walkers of the jianghu.
Issue 2 Jan 2023
Strange Horizons
Issue 19 Dec 2022
Issue 12 Dec 2022
Issue 5 Dec 2022
Issue 28 Nov 2022
By: RiverFlow
Translated by: Emily Jin
Issue 21 Nov 2022
Load More
%d bloggers like this: