Category Archives: AWARDS & OTHER POSTS

WORDS LIVE ON // Oleh Kliufas

Down through the ages, Russia has tried to kill the Ukrainian identity. They have done everything to present Ukraine as the rural outskirts of the ‘great, educated and advanced’ Russian empire. But the ones who proclaimed themselves enlighteners were merely butchers, murderers. They did everything they could to erase Ukrainian culture, traditions, and even the Ukrainian language itself.

And they are still doing this, even now, literally. During the last eleven years of war, Russia has killed hundreds of people of literature. Writers, poets, translators, editors, publishers and librarians. Ukrainian men and women. As you read these words, others are left to disappear in an unread draft forever.

There is a project called ‘Nedopysani‘ (‘Unfinished‘ in English). It’s a memorial site for people of literature who will never be able to put that final dot in their notebook, who will never be able to take into their hands their first published book. And so, this is our hard and painful mission. This is what we must do for them. It is inevitable.

Today, we present the next instalment of our translation series, ‘Words Live On’. We have done our best, and we hope that it will speak to our Dear Readers in a way that cold, clinical war statistics cannot.

Glory to Ukraine! To our heroes — glory!

It’s as if the watch is an hour and a half slow
You go to work or the cinema, take a train
Everything is to schedule, on time, as it ought to be
But the watch keeps saving some time for later

Unless it’s Sunday, you wake up late in the morning
And you don’t have to go anywhere, then you take
The watch in your hand and count the time on it
Well, it looks like it’s now finally keeping good time

But tomorrow, on Monday, everything is in place again
Once again, you can’t fix that hour and a half
Because you don’t have time to take the watch in for repair…
Something like that happens with an overdue Christmas

Just tell your kids, if they haven’t learnt yet
That Saint Nicholas and Koliada come a little bit quicker
When they set the watch back by yesterday, on their own
And you can sleep the whole Sunday, if you wish

То як годинник, що відстав на півтори години
Ти ходиш на роботу чи в кіно, сідаєш в потяг
Все вчасно, без запізнень, все цілком як має бути
Але годинник далі відкладає час на потім

Хіба коли неділя, вранці ти встаєш пізніше
І йти тобі не треба нікуди, тоді береш ти
Годинник свій на руку і рахуєш час по ньому
Так, ніби він все правильно показує нарешті

А завтра, в понеділок, знову все на свому місці
І знову півтори години виправити годі
Бо все часу нема годинник той в ремонт занести…
Десь так то і з Різдвом протермінованим виходить

Ти тільки дітям то скажи, як ще вони не взнали
Що Миколай і Коляда приходять трохи скорше
Вони самі докрутять той годинник вже на вчора
А ти собі в неділю спи хоч цілий день як хочеш

Original poem by OLEH KLIUFAS
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2023

TATI’s & TONY’s DEAD POET TOUR // The Dove And The Ant. by Jean de La Fontaine

The same instruction we may get
From another couple, smaller yet.

A dove came to a brook to drink,
When, leaning o’er its crumbling brink,
An ant fell in, and vainly tried,
In this, to her, an ocean tide,
To reach the land; whereat the dove,
With every living thing in love,
Was prompt a spire of grass to throw her,
By which the ant regain’d the shore.

A barefoot scamp, both mean and sly,
Soon after chanced this dove to spy;
And, being arm’d with bow and arrow,
The hungry codger doubted not
The bird of Venus, in his pot,
Would make a soup before the morrow.
Just as his deadly bow he drew,
Our ant just bit his heel.
Roused by the villain’s squeal,
The dove took timely hint, and flew
Far from the rascal’s coop; –
And with her flew his soup.

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

Tumblevision #36

This little piggy went to war.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2026

WORDS LIVE ON // Volodymyr Vakulenko

Down through the ages, Russia has tried to kill the Ukrainian identity. They have done everything to present Ukraine as the rural outskirts of the ‘great, educated and advanced’ Russian empire. But the ones who proclaimed themselves enlighteners were merely butchers, murderers. They did everything they could to erase Ukrainian culture, traditions, and even the Ukrainian language itself.

And they are still doing this, even now, literally. During the last eleven years of war, Russia has killed hundreds of people of literature. Writers, poets, translators, editors, publishers and librarians. Ukrainian men and women. As you read these words, others are left to disappear in an unread draft forever.

There is a project called ‘Nedopysani‘ (‘Unfinished‘ in English). It’s a memorial site for people of literature who will never be able to put that final dot in their notebook, who will never be able to take into their hands their first published book. And so, this is our hard and painful mission. This is what we must do for them. It is inevitable.

Today, we present the next instalment of our translation series, ‘Words Live On’. We have done our best, and we hope that it will speak to our Dear Readers in a way that cold, clinical war statistics cannot.

Glory to Ukraine! To our heroes — glory!

SURVIVAL KIT

Pack yourself into survival kits –
It is what it is, someone doesn’t, and someone fits.
Those who won’t, always have gorging on their thoughts,
That’s why I suggest to stuff the kits with poets.
They speak to the point, aren’t great eaters
But every one of them is a mighty stage speaker
And it sounds like thunder, their rhymed word…
I didn’t fit. Don’t you need my sort?

ТРИВОЖНА ВАЛІЗА

Пакуйте себе у тривожні валізи –
Це ж діло таке, хтось ні, а хтось влізе.
Не влізуть хто вічно із думкою жерти,
Тому я б порадив напхати поетів.
Говорять по ділу, їдять не багато
З них кожен могутній на сцені оратор
І громом гримить їх римоване слово…
Не вліз у валізу. Не треба такого?

Original poem by VOLODYMYR VAKULENKO
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022

Tati’s Father

In 2019, I visited with my creative partner, Tetiana, in Ukraine. I wanted to experience what everyday life was like for her there, and was lucky enough to stay for a period of about three months. I had known Tetiana for years by that point but not her family, who still welcomed me—a complete stranger—into their lives with open arms. They really were so very generous and accepting, treating me like I’d always belonged there. I’ll always be grateful for that.

I loved spending time with Tetiana’s family so much that I vowed to myself that I’d return one day. However, there will be one less person to greet me when that day finally comes. Sadly, her Father has just passed away. As you can imagine, Tetiana, and her Mother and Brother, are gutted—so am I, to be honest. Her Father and I often bonded over our shared love of heavy metal. We’d do devil horns as a greeting, and he’d comb through YouTube clips to introduce me to many of his favourite, classic bands.

While I was there, Tetiana and I cobbled together some personalised mugs as a gift to her family—a thank you for allowing me to stay with them. Along with loving all things metal, her Father was also a huge Beatles fan, so I’m sure you can tell what famous photo our own image was aping. The man on the far right there is Tetiana’s Father. He was so fucking cool, and I hope my drawing captures something of his indomitable, adventurous spirit.

Truly, he was a beautiful man, and the world is poorer without him. I miss him greatly.

by TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2025