Silhouettes You see his speedas he jumps between cars.It is worth that one moment,the incredible beating of the heart.It happens as if in a dream,the purple darkness. In wartime,you can no longer see the silhouettesof your neighborsas they move through their nightly routines.Your own windowsare covered with the duvet. You are more alone,remembering the porcelain…
Olga Livshin
Relocation As I moved into the first house I ever owned,thousands of Ukrainians migrated to the air.Now they typed memes; now, they roseinto the stratosphere. It was multitasking,some said. Some were walking their dogs,but fingers softened, fists unclenched, letting goof the small spool of the leash. It was spring, then,and no one could own–or grasp–anything.The…
Mykhailo Zharzhailo: Translated by R.B. Lemberg
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…
Olena O’Lear: Translated by Olena O’Lear
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…
Anatoliy Anatoliy: Translated by Olena O’Lear
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,…
Iya Kiva: Translated by Yuliya Musakovska
Ticket to Dream. Every second-hand store resembles a large airplane,where passengers from Western Europeare trying hard to play Eastern Europeans with endless discussions of politics,with posters “For our freedom and yours,”with fatigue caused by poor nutrition, with a choking smell of povertythat unmistakably marks a foreigneralways fearing to state the incorrect purpose of the visit….
Yuliya Musakovska: Translated by Olena Jennings and Yuliya Musakovska
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…
Oleksandr Mymruk: Translated by Ella Yevtushenko
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…
Olena Tereshchenko: Translated by Olena Tereshchenko
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…
Ella Yevtushenko: Translated by Ella Yevtushenko
.#BuchaMassacre .there are bodiesbut no words no words noneonly bodies lying around what can those words do anywayagainst brute forceagainst their hatesuch that even wild beastsare incapable of itsuch that you don’t even knowto which kingdom to attribute these creaturescause biology has no such categoriesno dictionaries have any such words none no such words anywhereI…
Vitalii Naida: Translated by Olena Stativka
An Alarm Rang Out in the Sky. An alarm rang out in the skyIn the basement, under the missiles’ noiseThe Baby’s mother collectscrumbs of biscuits from the floor.Over there, under the “Grad” fireAn ambulance rushes to the city,Shells fly into the house,Hand shakes nervously.And we still do not give up:At the front and in every…
Victoria Feshchuk: Translated by Victoria Feshchuk
Hate Speech. The language of hate grows from the chestwith heavy breathsbreaths of revengebreaths of justiceyour anger thickens the air, compresses enemy objectsmetal cracks explosions curl inward everything is real you wake up – and there’s nothing to breatheonly the space of hostility will be expanded againthe spacethat you’ll have to squeeze outbreath by breath…