–Translating Serhiy Zhadan is like becoming Serhiy Zhadan. You have to live his poetry in a way to get to its essence, and hear him read his poems before rendering them in your language. This experience can be empowering and intimidating at the same time because Zhadan’s poetry, like a spell, encapsulates space and time…
And When I Made This Final Step And when I made this final stepand fell into the deep pitmy friends stood all around meat the very edge and each was holding an assault riflecarved out of woodand a handful of soilwarm and dry and my pleading did not matter anymorebecause when the oldest one calledevery…
Explosions The sounds fill up the airinto moments when you don’t expect itthough you always feelthat something is about to happenbut stillsounds fill up the roomand the numb question of what that wasechoing from the ceilingand rolling on the floor to the doorssound fills up my headI lean against the door jamband listen listen listento the…
Fellow Poets The poetry will live foreverI tell them into the walkie-talkieon the frequency available only to us –they just smile here is Ihornow he’s a squad leadercleaning his assault riflewith the muse’s feathershe knows he’s just a fang in the jawof the hungry beast here is another Ihorhe used to roll the grass snakes…
Lightbulbs Surprised they have been shouting and pointing fingers for a long timeuntil they realized that’s how death looks like This giant glass-eyed fishwith tombstones instead of scaleswhere did it come fromwas the city inundated by water It’s the worst thing outside todaythis grapefruit sound of the scales touching the window glassthese empty eyes, like…
13.03.2022 to Iryna Shuvalova and Yurii Andrukhovych we are not another year older but the war olderthe number that could describe how much we’ve been through doesn’t even exist||||||||||||||||||| now we are older than our bodies |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| grandparents one war older then us were always sayingthat we were so lucky to be born in a…
Ctrl+Z They give us Zand we give them ctrl+Z or cmd+Z ctrl-tZarbalanced by a clown cult of each personalityand therefore of none poems are quite mutecomplex meaningless empty because if the story then it’s bullshitbecause if allegory, then it’s nonsensebecause if hyperbole, then at once it’s a rocket and bomb emojibecause if understatement, then it…
From the Sonnets of Victory O the Almighty Judge, O Thou, the High!I humbly pray Thee: let the righteous win!And let the holy spear, so light and thin,Drive out the armored foes and make them fly! let the triumph of Thy host be nigh!Let on the hopeless brink a CherubinCome down from Heaven in the battle’s dinAnd make…
But Why Aren’t We Dead Our Lieutenant? But why aren’t we dead, our Lieutenant?We laid down our lives, as you taught:we heavily bled, our Lieutenant,bit into the ravings we got, we sang psalms of old, our Lieutenant —the songs of the wild virgin land,expected the cold, our Lieutenant,did everything at your command. There’re milestones ahead,…
Such Love . Such love it is, a hot lump in your throat;It is without any halftones or relative meanings,Loved not half-heartedly but with the full sun and sea,It is loved hyacinth-like, violet-like, and unconditionally.It is so uncovered and raw, like an early morning,It is so striking that you can’t tell if it heals or…
And When I Made This Final Step. And when I made this final stepand fell into the deep pitmy friends stood all around meat the very edge and each was holding an assault riflecarved out of woodand a handful of soilwarm and dry and my pleading did not matter anymorebecause when the oldest one calledevery…
A Taste of War . At my favorite cafenow everything will havea strange taste.Coffee will be bitterfrom the tears of childrenfrom Bucha,and the cream will be saltyfrom Mariupol defenders’ blood.And the fragments of bombs,which broke Chernihiv and Kharkiv,will squeak on your teeth every time.At my favorite caféI’ll look back and won’t seethe familiar facesof relatives.In…
