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!
Because someone put a leash on my tongue,
because now there is no one to say, “I’m missing,”
because truth is—in fact—not a signpost,
because there are no truths at all in the world.
That’s why your “today”
is only today
and the Sun, like a puppy, licks the earth’s feet,
because all our tears are bitter and salty
emigrated forever to the land of self‑depreciation.
Because the stars are soft, like the heels of infants,
because the whole world, ’til the last drop
explodes each day and flows back into the womb,
like the footprints left by Jesus’s sandals.
Because a word and rhyme long ago
lost their status as weapons of mass destruction,
because the wrinkles appeared
in a gaze at the window,
and you did not notice them
in your daily reflection.
Тому що хтось надів нашийник на мій язик,
тому що нікому казати тепер «I’m missing»,
тому що істина – насправді не вказівник,
тому що в світі взагалі немає ніяких істин.
Тому є твоє «сьогодні»
лише сьогодні
і сонце, що ноги землі, як цуцик, лиже,
тому що всі наші сльози гіркі й солоні
емігрували навіки в країну самопринижень.
Тому що зорі м’які, як п’яти у немовлят,
тому що весь світ до останньої краплі
вибухає щоденно і лине в утробу назад,
як сліди, що лишили Ісуса сандалі.
Тому що слово і рима уже давно
утратили статус зброї масового ураження,
тому що з’явились зморшки
у погляді на вікно,
яких ти не помітив
у щоденному відображенні.
Original poem by ILLIA CHERNILEVSKYI
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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