
“Un Soir à Lima” Over the radio comes a voice, Drawn out in suave announcer’s style: “Up next Un Soir à Lima...”
I cease to smile... My heart grows vexed...
Suddenly, That melody, loved yet cursed, Rings out from the still machine... A memory loosened, burst! My soul strays off to a scene... The African moon cast forth its glow On tree-swept hillsides just below.
Our living room was cool and large, And placed where all, even the sea, Did bask in moonlight dark and clear... Yet at the window—only me.
My mother at the old piano Would play… Precisely this, Un Soir à Lima.
My God, how distant, how lost it all is! What now remains of her elegant style? Her voice so cherished and dear? Her soft, maternal smile? All that remains To remind me is this that I hear, Un Soir à Lima. Still from the radio richly it soars, That melody coursing through memory’s stores, The same, the same Un Soir à Lima.
Beautiful was her silver hair Beneath the light. And I who never thought she’d die And leave me bound to who I am! She died, but I am still her child. For mothers, none becomes a man!
Credits Poetry – Minimal Anthology by Fernando Pessoa, edited by Jerónimo Pizarro, translated by John Pedro Schwartz and Robert N. Schwartz. (Emergence Education Press, 2025).
Interviews

Kundalini Wonder
Interview with Dorothy Walters
Dorothy Walters, Mystical Poetry and the Divine Feminine
Interview with Andrew Harvey
Reenchanting the World with Words
Interview with Nathan Hassall
Poetry In Translation
Interview with John Pedro Schwartz
Trusting the Poetic Impulse
Interview with Tejal TarroBook Reviews

A Summary of the Fetzer Institute’s Sharing Spiritual Heritage Report: A review by Ariela Cohen and Robin Beck
By Ariela Cohen
Choosing Earth, Choosing Us: Book Review of Choosing Earth
By Robin Beck
Everything, Everywhere, All at Once: Movie Review
By Jeff Sullivan
Monk and Robot: Book Review of A Psalm for the Wild-Built
By Robin Beck
















