Category Archives: AWARDS & OTHER POSTS

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // Christmas. by Thomas Frederick Young

Old father Time, his cruel scythe
Has swung full oft around,
Since last the merry Christmas, bells
Rang out their cheerful sound.
With cruel vigor he has held
His great, impartial sway,
And many thousands mown to earth,
Who saw last Christmas day.

For some have left this world for aye,
Who dwelt with us last year;
Glad voices heard amongst us then,
We never more shall hear.
But still we’ll build our Christmas fires,
And sing our Christmas songs,
And for one day forget our griefs,
Our failures and our wrongs.

Then ring, ye joyful bells, ring out;
Ye crashing cymbals fall;
And for old Christmas, hale and stout,
Sound up, ye harps and all.
Let music’s loud and sweetest strain
Beat from our hearts each ill;
Let thoughts of those assuage our pain,
Who are around us still.

Oh, winsome maid, oh, hearty youth,
I urge you on to glee,
For, in your innocence and truth,
You all are dear to me.
Nor youth, nor age should cherish gloom,
And voices oft should sing,
So give the gladsome voices room,
And let the joy-bells ring.

by THOMAS FREDERICK YOUNG (1892-1940)
Public Domain Poetry

Tumblevision #23

Selfie 11

Hello, my old friend. Back to smother me again.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2023

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Frog Who Wished To Be As Big As The Ox. by Jean de La Fontaine

There was a little Frog
Whose home was in a bog,
And he worried ’cause he wasn’t big enough.
He sees an ox and cries:
“That’s just about my size,
If I stretch myself – Say Sister, see me puff!”

So he blew, blew, blew,
Saying: “Sister, will that do?”
But she shook her head. And then he lost his wits.
For he stretched and puffed again
Till he cracked beneath the strain,
And burst, and flew about in little bits.

by JEAN DE LA FONTAINE (1621-1695)
Public Domain Poetry

Tumblevision #22

Ethics & Progress

The cost of progress is always someone.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2019

TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Young Ukrainian Poets: Poseidon

Tati Translates Poseidon

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 everything ends
The sirens grown numb
Loved ones will be hugged
Properly, as they should be

Following the north wind
I will reach an areal of tears
Mighty and ancient
I will bow to the ocean
And begin to cry bitterly

I will give my soul
To heal children’s wounds
I will give my blood
For the lives of veterans

I will give my heart
For the devouring of the fucking war
Ripping it out again, and again
For the memory of the deceased
For the memory of scars

I will give my body
To dissolve in a wineglass
I will give my life
For this free, unsubdued land
Lay here forever
With my happy
Bones

Без назви

Коли все закінчиться
Зніміють сирени
Близькі будуть обійняті
Як слід, як треба

За вітром північним
Дістанусь сліз ареалу
Могутньому і древньому
Вклонюсь океану
І гірко заплачу

Душу віддам
Щоб дитячі загоїти рани
Кров я віддам
Щоб жили ветерани

Серце віддам
Сучій війні на поталу
Вириватиму знову і знову
Щоб пам’ятати полеглих
Щоб не забути про шрами

Тіло віддам
Щоб розчинитись в бокали
Життя віддам
Щоб на вільній, нескореній землі
Залишитись
Щасливими
Кістками

Original poem by POSEIDON
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2023