In Any City

A muffled radio can be heard  

from a neighboring motorist 

stopped at the light 

When it’s green

vehicles thrust forward 

in unison with blind force 

rush by

a cathedral 

framed in scaffolding 

kids playing basketball

in the adjacent schoolyard 

barefoot homeless 

somewhere on any street 

universal longing

The taxi meter ticks

as the basketball bounces

from hand to hand 

the horns drown out a death or two

an eagle cries out 

for its mate

a traffic light is red globally 

while someone’s heart beats 

like a wild bird 

for it to turn green

for the ball to make the hoop

for the barefoot homeless girl

to return home

for some damn thing to happen

for the love of God 

anything above and beyond 

the hustle and bustle

down a street 

in any city

in any life 

Write How Quiet It Is

5am dawn crawls into the sky – hello

write me a love note

some fool’s verbiage

to tell me the dark stars – our death stars

have exploded

and we are free

from judgment

free to write

Write this you fool:

all that glitters

was in my hand

and like the sand

slid into the sea

all that matters now

is that you write it

Speaking goes into

the void of forgetfulness

pre-dementia waiting

on the forum

I write it

buy milk

put gas in car

feed and let dogs out

dumb-ass notes

in fifty years our kids

kids

kids

will read this stuff

and say

how simple she was

good ole

great-great grandma

But listen as I write

the quiet

of my heart

as the beats wind down

as the dawn

has finally won over the night 

and my meager mind

simple as a leaf

sits in a complex

pile of mulch

the deterioration

breaks me down

My two eyes stare

into the vast ocean

recall each molecule

of sand that slipped through

Write it you fool

All My Months of Forever

Every cigarette I swore was my last

that dang cat 

you swung it by its tail so hard

rendered it vertigo-ridden 

for the rest of its measly lives

back then all you did wrong was twist up that cat

would have been so easy to declare you a good soul

Winded now

from just a flight of steps – just one damn flight

you said I was a monster

yet you endlessly wanted to be with me

hence, we birthed the monster together

slipped into its asylum

a toke here and there

on some good marijuana

we spiraled into the Cadillac of drugs

We died some nights

straddled together in an agony so great 

it gives me chills dare I think about it

death is good for you – remember you said that?

it’s good to come back alive and on fire

I came back with one eye and dimwitted

I came back with a limp

I came back with a burned neck

I saw the stars spray

over an archipelago 

in a swoon 

during one of my deaths

I’m sure it was Jesus

That battered black cat long since dead

you – now homeless and a smell 

caked so deep 

you cannot be cleansed

I waited for Jesus under that moon

naked and busted up

it took all those months of forever

it took all nine lives of that wretched cat

He came for me

barely recognizable

me – not Jesus

(I’d know Jesus if I was deaf 

blind or headless)

when you were high as fuck

pouring lighter fluid on his beautiful white loincloth

I scrambled behind with a bucket of water

Jesus remembered

I Wanted Virgil

Same dream again and again

I trudge to the edge overlooking an immense blackened gorge

teeter and sway

will myself to step off 

my body in complete disagreement  

pushing myself with my mind

I flail myself over 

into the abyss 

then Virgil appears 

disappointed

worn and beaten 

from our grim replay 

I awake in time 

to swallow a scream

light a cigarette 

the orange glow soothes

yet my heart 

blows up 

On my nineteenth birthday 

we stood outside our building 

giggling in snow knee-deep

the heroin 

just started to flow

created magical art

on canvases we imagined 

in our personal heavens 

when she hurled her body over the roof

twelve floors 

the slow motion movie scene 

mesmerized us 

Her heart continued to beat

even after her body hit

we heard it – the beat 

a loud gong 

like a wildebeest being taken down 

not ready – the heart never ready 

defies all purpose 

simply because its primary desire 

is to beat 

The red-pink snow shaped a grave

around her twisted body 

and we – high as fuck

mourning like half-wits 

clumsily dipping and falling 

to lean together in some wrecked sadness 

or perhaps envy 

Virgil comes back 

pasty white 

stone-faced 

stares accusingly

annoyed that he 

is my chosen 

chaperone 

I awake again soaked with sweat 

still feel his rough ancient breath 

my heart dead

but the beating steadfast 

so violently alive 

Donna Dallas has appeared most recently in Beatnik Cowboy, Quail Bell Magazine and Fevers of the Mind.  She is the author of Death Sisters, her legacy novel, published by Alien Buddha Press. She has two chapbooks, Smoke and Mirrors, launched with New York Quarterly, and Megalodon, launched with The Opiate. Donna has served on the editorial team of Red Fez and NYQ. 

donnaanndallas@gmail.com

@DonnaDallas15 

It all started with the World Storytelling Championship! 

Year 2020. 

ACEnovation took a deep breadth and jumped into the warm embrace of the ocean called storytelling! The cool water enveloped us, silencing the world above and pulling us into its serene depths… The deeper we dived the more interesting & beautiful  it became – an underwater garden bustling with stories – we felt a sense of freedom and that inate connection to stories, storytelling and storytellers! 5 years. We swam around the world. Quietly. Setting benchmarks. Touching lives. Making a difference! Brand ACEnovation is warmth. It connects…Bonds. We, now have family in 181 countries. The numbers increasing. We are one. The strength in that oneness drifted us back to India. 

To Launch a  Storytelling Championship ! 

  For ages 3+ to 103+ ( 6 age categories) 

We picked up pearls on the way. 

‘The Hindu in School’ as Media Partners. 

 VIT – Chennai Campus as Organizing Partners

 Amar Chitra Katha as organizing partner

Chools Group as organizing partner

 Image King as Bronze partner

Strung together, we made a lovely necklace and called it :

*The National Storytelling Championship  NSC – INDIA 2025!* 

To know more visit our website: (It is truly a well crafted story)

***https://www.nationalstorytellingchampionship.com

Thank you all for the love… Shower us with more.. Join the championship… Craft your tale. Capture the crown!! 

On Half-believing News Reports the US is Returning to Bagram

So, we are creeping back like Jeff Bridges

in The Old Man

In the Shomali Valley where seasons occurred

before men came to feel and name them

Afghanistan’s gnarled finger of time points

to another invader returning

As a soar of C-17 Globemasters appears above mountains

and drops to Bagram

But in the orchards and fields spread around the airfield

veiled women in headscarfs, men in tunics barely notice,

Hardly look up, at the power of American dollars

flying over them, winning over even their Supreme Leader

With his hardened Deobandi heart and impoverished

country of poor workers, beggars, sadistic soldiery

****

We won’t return to give them any kind of government

in the image of democracy — already tried, failed

We won’t do anything to let women escape their homes,

no longer cover their faces, swallow their tongues

Whatever geopolitical motivation: attack plans against Iran,

because China’s an hour away, a combat boot pivot to Asia

No matter the reason, whatever massive grease payment

to these turbaned, hard-bitten America-haters

Let the cargo planes land, let soldiers climb back into guard

towers, let the Apache helos circle,

Seal teams hike mountains to clear attackers, let data

from satellites rain down again to decryption receivers,

Just use this offer-the-Taliban-can’t-refuse power for one

noble human thing, too: make them let girls go back to school

A US Army combat veteran, Steven Croft lives on a barrier island off the coast of Georgia.  His latest chapbook is At Home with the Dreamlike Earth (The Poetry Box, 2023).  His work has appeared in online and print journals and has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.

Ancient Egypt 

Ancient Egypt, the realm of the pharaohs.

You have your exalted heights for the vulture,

and a serpentine viceroy for your depths.

Amun-Ra enjoys your deification,

as one who radiates a smile upon you by day.

The king of gods and their dexterous magnificence.

He speaks from the burning sky and the air!

Anytime leanness threatens your neighbours,

the life giving nile extracts your lush green.

Having flowed like milk from pendulous breasts.

You sourced your indelible prints and texts

from versatile cyperus papyrus.

On your hieroglyphs we see you revealed,

so do we at the valley of the kings.

The many gods defined and still define you.

Your culture, your life and the underworld 

are all by Osiris and Nephthys controlled.

The old kingdom, the middle and the new

are all at Memphis, Thebes and Pi-Rameses seen.

The pyramids of Giza distinguish you as one wonder of the world for all civilizations seen!

One magical Egypt, the precursor of modern civilizations.

The Ancient One  

Before the stars began to shine, 

Or the moon was a pale light in the night , 

Eons came and went, 

In this age we live in, 

Stories were told and retold, 

Until lost in the in the mists of time. 

Many wise men shared their wisdom, 

And their truths were made known 

To the world.. 

But the people walked on in darkness, 

Trampling their truths as they went. 

Their weapons became more and more fearsome, 

And they had help with the evil they chose. 

The Ancient One is watching, 

He knows this too shall pass, 

He seen it come,  

And He watched it go, 

He is the first and the last. 

Purple Dust and Owning Things

My name is my own my own my own

owning myself entirely is the only way

to ward off the worrying: the wrong

doing; the only sane way to sit at a restaurant

outside the context of botched operations

staining the fabric of my dress blue and pink and

white; I can’t see the stars in the sky anymore

I can’t breathe or sigh anymore when I have to wait

to catch my breath or a bus to get anywhere else

besides here. I trace the texture on my face my

face of purple stars billowing in soft fabrics wrapped around my outline

owning my starry-eyed soul is the most direct route to meaningless salvation

separated from the rest of the meaningful world the most direct route

through a memorized painting is the colors I perceive. 

Shahnoza Ochildiyeva

The Role of Translators in Intercultural Communication: Translators and AI

Abstract:

As the world is uniting to tackle global challenges and implement innovative plans, the culture of communication is becoming increasingly essential. In the process of international interaction, not only linguistic but also cultural understanding is necessary. This responsibility primarily falls upon translators. At the same time, Artificial Intelligence (AI), which is actively striving to compete with human translators, is viewed differently by various experts. This paper explores the vital role of professional human translators in cultural communication and highlights their advantages over AI in conveying context, emotion, and cultural nuance.

Keywords:

Globalization, translator ethics, cultural bridge, grammar, politics, impartial translation, context.

The 21st century is a significant era marked by globalization, which has fostered close cooperation between nations of different races, ethnicities, and cultures in political, scientific, economic, and social fields. In a time when global leaders are gathering around the same table to act collectively, when major industries and multinational corporations are expanding international partnerships, and when education and tourism are increasingly supported, the role of translators is more crucial than ever. As intercultural communication and mutual understanding through language become increasingly important, language and cultural barriers can lead to serious misunderstandings and conflicts. Translators bear the responsibility of accurately conveying not only words but also cultural meanings, historical contexts, and societal expressions.

The International Federation of Translators (FIT) unites over 100 professional associations from 55 countries, representing more than 80,000 translators, translation editors, and language professionals. This is a clear indication of the institutionalization and global recognition of translation as a vital social profession. In the 21st century, translators are no longer mere converters of words from one language to another — they are cultural ambassadors, diplomatic intermediaries, and facilitators of humanitarian dialogue. Translators must accurately convey meaning, style, and cultural layers. Their roles vary across different fields: in diplomacy, precise translation can prevent political conflict; in literature, it reveals the spirit of a work, the author’s voice, and the cultural atmosphere of the time; in cinema, art, and tourism, translators adapt content to the national culture and public mentality.

However, this demanding profession comes with challenges and potential errors. Stereotypes in translation can lead to misrepresentation, and misinterpretation of humor, idioms, or proverbs may cause awkward or even offensive situations. For example, the English phrase “break a leg” has nothing to do with breaking bones — it actually means “good luck”. Translators must recognize such idioms and convey their meaning appropriately.

In today’s digital era, where programming, automation, and AI are rapidly evolving, translation is also undergoing transformation. Many people prefer using AI-powered tools such as Google Translate, DeepL, or ChatGPT for their speed and accessibility. Indeed, AI offers many valuable features: it allows users to learn languages with mobile apps, engage in real-time dialogues with AI assistants, and instantly translate texts. While AI systems are highly advanced in grammatical accuracy, they still fall short in understanding cultural values, emotional depth, and nuanced context. Every word often carries specific cultural concepts. Translating them literally can lead to distortion. For instance, the English word “privacy” has deeper legal and cultural implications than the Uzbek equivalent “shaxsiy hayot”. The Japanese term “wa” reflects societal harmony and cannot be fully captured in translation without detailed explanation. Similarly, the phrase “hit the sack” simply means “to go to bed”, and “it’s raining cats and dogs” means “it’s raining heavily” — their literal translation is nonsensical without understanding the cultural context.

Unlike AI, human translators are sensitive to cultural thought, tone of speech, and context. They also possess emotional intelligence, ethical responsibility, and professional intuition — traits that AI lacks. As AI ethics specialist Luciano Floridi aptly stated: “AI can translate words, but only humans can translate emotions.”

Conclusion:

In processes involving migration, international education, diplomatic negotiations, and digital technology, accurate communication through translators is crucial. No matter how advanced AI becomes, it cannot fully replace human translators, because the depths of human intellect and the power of emotions remain unmatched. However, a translator who thinks critically and collaborates effectively with AI can significantly improve work efficiency and save time. A translator equipped not only with linguistic knowledge but also with cultural sensitivity, communicative creativity, and modern technological skills can become a true cultural bridge. In addressing global challenges of the 21st century, culturally aware and impartial translation is not only a translator’s duty — it is a priceless contribution to humanity’s progress and international friendship.

References:

1. Baker, M. (2001). In other words: A coursebook on translation (2nd ed.). Routledge.

2. Bassnett, S. (2002). Translation studies (3rd ed.). Routledge.

3. Nida, E. A. (1964). Toward a science of translating: With special reference to principles and procedures involved in Bible translating. Brill.

4. Crystal, D. (2003). English as a global language (2nd ed.). Cambridge University Press.

Shahnoza Ochildiyeva first-year student of the Faculty of International Relations and Social-Humanitarian Sciences, Uzbekistan University of Journalism and Mass Communications, specializing in English Philology and Language Teaching (English).