'Mac Amhlaigh sought to record every pub and dancehall, every sunset, stone wall and rainbow in his mind, to pack the city in his suitcase so that she remained with him forever, so he could all at once hear her lost voice everywhere.' – Colum McCann 'Mícheál Ó hAodha has done the literary world a huge service by translating Dónall Mac Amhlaigh's work into English.' – Gillian Mawson 'a work that exudes authenticity and immediacy.' – Liam Harte A Soldier's Song is a classic account of Irish army life by a working-class writer whose work and contribution to literary culture is only now being fully appreciated. It has the privacy and immediacy of a diary but holds the interest like a novel. It follows the adventures, trials and tribulations of Nuibin Amhlaigh who keeps getting into trouble in his good soldier's progress through army life. A lost treasure of Irish writing translated for the first time into English.

A fishing village at the end of the world. A lake that is drying up and, ominously, pushing out its banks. The men have vodka, the women troubles, the children eczema to scratch at. Born into this unforgiving environment, Nami, a young boy, embarks on a journey with nothing but a bundle of nerves, a coat that was once his grandfather's and the vague idea of searching for his mother, who disappeared from his life at a young age. To uncover the greatest mystery of his life, he must sail across and walk around the lake and finally dive to its bottom. The Lake is a raw account of life in a devastated land and the harsh, primitive circumstances under which people fight to survive.

WINNER OF THE TRANSLATION PRIZE LABORAL KUTXA – ETXEPARE 2023 'Miren Agur Meabe's poetic language shades and heightens the pulse of her writing, [adding] sensuality to the wound she writes of. Her way of looking elevates her raw, sincere voice to higher ground...' – Harkaitz Cano 'Miren Agur Meabe writes with about quiet worlds with tenderness and attention to detail, in a very sensual, almost synaesthetic way.' – Anna Blasiak, The Spanish Riveter 'a riveting and immersive read.' – Rhianon Holley, Buzz In a series of short poetic narratives Burning Bones finds the writer on a remarkable journey of imagination, discovery and emotion. We watch the gardener gather kindling to prepare a bonfire. 'So many branches,' I tell Gwen. 'They look like a pile of bones... I have a feeling that's what I'm doing too, carrying a bundle of bones from place to place. And I don't just mean the bones in my body.' From a flooded river stranding a dolphin on a sandbank to a sailor afraid to venture onto land while a first kiss is cut tragically short Meabe plays with the expectations and form of stories while offering a rhapsody of reflection and reinvention. Expertly translated into English by Amaia Gabantxo – arguably the most prestigious contemporary Basque to English translator – Burning Bones is a companion piece to Miren Agur Meabe's A Glass Eye, a collection of short stories that complement the universe of Meabe's novel about absence as an engine for creation, about what we make out of the things we lose – her eye, in the author's case, or love, or the innocence of youth.

Winner of a Pen Translates Award While kissing Agathon, my soul leapt to my lips... D i s a p p e a r a n c e – S e a r c h – R e t u r n A story of time slipping, desire just out of reach, like memories lost... At the beginning of the summer, I had to spend two weeks in hospital... If I hadn't fallen from the balcony, what happened later would likely never have happened at all. So begins a memoir by a man trying to come to terms with the loss of a lover who is now a famous writer. He is given one more chance to forget by Vlado, the charismatic actor, who is not as successful as he believes. They will have a holiday to recover – find the lost love between them and bury their shared memories of Ivan. It will be a summer without you.

"Nothing like this book has been seen before, either in our language or in any other. We should rejoice that such brilliance exists in Welsh writing." – Pennar Davies, Welsh literary critic "Owain Owain's The Last Day transcends the confines of its form and should captivate a fresh generation of readers with this English translation." – Joshua Rees, Buzz Magazine The Last Day is more than a moving call to arms for speakers of minority languages facing extinction; at its core, it's a tragic human-scale story played out between the few figures who could have stopped the madness before it was too late. It is, moreover, a meditation on themes like free will, artificial intelligence and the socio-historical processes that contribute towards the death of a nation. These themes are as relevant now – if not more so – as they were when the novel was written. With science fiction tropes recalling Philip K. Dick, Kurt Vonnegut and more recently Olga Ravn's The Employees, philosophical reflections in the vein of Dostoyevsky's Notes From the Underground, and its postmodern form, The Last Day is a testament to the depth and creativity of Welsh literature. Its translation into English is long overdue.

Marcia Pullman has been found dead at home in the leafy suburbs of Bulawayo. Chief Inspector Edmund Dube is onto the case at once, but it becomes increasingly clear that there are those, including the dead woman's husband, who do not want him asking questions. The case drags Edmund back into his childhood to when his mother's employers disappeared one day and were never heard from again, an incident that has shadowed his life. As his investigation into the death progresses, Edmund realises the two mysteries are inextricably linked and that unravelling the past is a dangerous undertaking threatening his very sense of self.

Gavdos: a remote island south of Crete, the southernmost point of Europe, surrounded by an endless expanse of sea. To Oksana, who has come from Ukraine with her friends to recover from illness in the aftermath of Chernobyl, it seems like a dream to live in a blue-and-white house with a lemon tree. To Penelope, a Greek woman who was married off to an unsuitable man by nuns from the convent where she spent her teenage years, it is a kind of prison. Their two narratives, interwoven with other stories – of the other women of the sparse community, of their own past lives and loves – are skilfully combined with themes of otherness and the notions of 'foreign' and 'barbaric' in this poetic and timely short novel by acclaimed Macedonian writer Petar Andonovski, winner of the European Union Prize for Literature.