IMPORTANT NOTE: While we were working on our translation of the following poems, we learned that Anna (its author) is originally from Poltava. She has family there, and on the 1st February her aunt was killed when the Russian bastards hit yet another residential building. Yes, it has been almost three years and still there is a war. It should be beyond any doubt that Russia is a terrorist state and that Putin is a war criminal. We implore our readers to stand with Ukraine and help end this tyranny once and for all.

Literary classics aren’t always created by the greying elder statesmen and women of the writing world. You know the ones. They’re all wise and wrinkly and impassive, and woe betide the scholar who dares mount an honest critique of their bodies of work.

You see, literary classics are also written by upstart youngsters. These youngsters are full of vitality and creativity. They live fully awake and fully aware during these very difficult times. Nothing escapes their notice and they’re unafraid to share what they really think. They walk among us right now, breathing, smiling and crying, loving and hating, experiencing the full range of their humanity without apology.

This series presents names that you won’t find in textbooks or on Wikipedia, but these are the very youngsters who are creating modern Ukrainian literature right now. Trust us, you will want to check them out because it’s only a matter of time before they become household names. When we go back to these writers in two hundred years, we have no doubt that they’ll be mentioned in the same breath as luminaries such as Taras Shevchenko and Lesya Ukrainka.

White flowers (series) – selected poems

time stopped inside the body
like air
in a punched ball
that was left by a boy in a yard
before the shelling of his house
*
my heart is
a yellow butterfly
that flutters around
the emptied street
to the sounds of a siren
like it is music
*
war peace
peace war
and what is between?
i see white flowers sprout
*
every time when pain
becomes unbearable
look at this white flower
and then at another one
and the one behind
they are here to give you
all the best they have gotten to know
from water sun and wind

Білі квіти (цикл) – обрані поезії

час у тілі зупинився
як повітря
у пробитому м’ячику
який лишив хлопчик у дворі
перед обстрілом свого дому
*
моє серце це
жовтий метелик
що кружляє по
спорожнілій вулиці
під звуки сирени
так ніби то музика
*
війна мир
мир війна
а поміж що?
бачу білі квіти проростають
*
щоразу як біль
стає нестерпним
поглянь на цю білу квітку
а потім на іншу
і ту що за нею
вони тут щоб віддати тобі
все найкраще що пізнали
з води сонця і вітру

Original poems by ANNA YUTCHENKO
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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