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.

Untitled

when
you were here
and sang a song
then my heart didn’t fester either
and this pretty flower
i didn’t let wither

but then
someone made a big smoke here
and everything turned rancid
and your throat became parched
and there is no song anymore
and the heart rots
and i don’t look at the pretty flower

oh a serene night above the river
that was always full with crickets
now you smell of gasoline
and there’s no way to chase you away from me

Без назви

коли
ти була тут
і співала пісню
то і серце мені не гноїлось
і гарній квітці
я не дозволяв прив’янути

а потім
хтось тут зчинив великий дим
і вигіркло все
і горло твоє пересохло
і пісні більше нема
і серце гноїться
і на квітку гарну не дивлюсь

о тиха ніч над річкою
що завше повнилась цвіркунами
тепер ти пахнеш бензином
і не відженеш тебе ніяк від себе

Original poem by VOLODYMYR KAUFMAN
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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