Dear Reader,

Autumn returns. The falling leaves evoke the cycle of blooming, passing, and beginning again. I dream of crisp air whispering down the roads, of the waning days of September sparking yet another season of harvest, of the leisurely nights accompanied by cinnamon, coffee, and woodsmoke.

And scattered among these nights are stars, each one its own unique light. I like to imagine the pieces in this issue in much the same way. Something in one of them may align unexpectedly with you.

For our sixth issue, Eterna Journal received the largest number of submissions in our history, curating works by 37 writers and artists from more than 10 countries. Reading them, I find myself stretched thin and reshaped by the refrains: longing, fear, memory, hope, yet spreading across time, place, and languages.

We are invited by Kosovo writer Lan Qyqalla “to breathe the city, sleeping inside its metaphors.” Elsewhere, Alina Lee traces the reverberations of a silent street at 3 a.m., reflecting that memory returns through “a faint melody” and an old letter. From another corner, Chinese poet 比明 decides, “The flower and the self, both caught for a moment in the passing wind” (English translation).

An echo is proof of existence. Eterna’s goal is to preserve these eternities. Perhaps this is the magic of literature. To send a piece of ourselves outward without knowing where it reaches. Another person, somewhere else, hears it and carries it with them.

Read through these pages. In time, they will respond.

-Zhihan (Elsa) Zhang