You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!
by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024
You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!
by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024
See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down,
And through the Winter neglected lay,
Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown,
With tiny root taking hold on the clay
As, lifting and strengthening day by day,
It pushes red branches, sprouts new leaves,
And cell after cell the Power in it weaves
Out of the storehouse of soil and clime,
To fashion a Tree in due course of time;
Tree with rough bark and boughs’ expansion,
Where the Crow can build his mansion,
Or a Man, in some new May,
Lie under whispering leaves and say,
“Are the ills of one’s life so very bad
When a Green Tree makes me deliciously glad?”
As I do now. But where shall I be
When this little Seed is a tall green Tree?
by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM (1824-1889)
Public Domain Poetry
You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!
by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

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.
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Untitled
in your cathedral
maries refuse to cry
have sent their sons and daughters to protect the city
and stand stern, concentrated.
their prayers kept close
abreast with the eyes
abreast with the things around,
with which you can cover, or handle
as a weapon.
meanwhile from above
the viscous silence.
there you can distinguish an angel from a bird
a native one from a migrant.
and if maries hear natives
then, before the wailing starts,
they give a severe reprimand.
waiting for obedience.
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Без назви
у твоїм соборі
богородиці відмовляються плакати
відправили синів і доньок захищати місто
і стоять суворі, зібрані.
їхні молитви при собі
на рівні очей
на рівні предметів довкола,
якими можна прикритись чи взяти до рук
зброєю.
а згори тимчасом
тягуча тиша.
у такій відрізниш янгола від птаха
свого від перелітного.
і якщо почують своїх
то, поперед голосінню,
сильно висварять.
чекатимуть послуху.
Original poem by VIKTORIIA FESHCHUK
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024
Three secrets that never were said:
The stir of the sap in the spring,
The desire of a man to a maid,
The urge of a poet to sing.
by BLISS CARMAN (WILLIAM) (1861-1929)
Public Domain Poetry