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

i always walk this very road
where a scar blackens the asphalt
a braking path
i come back here again and again
though to the old pain
it is better to not come back

rain so often
raises between us
a wall of crying
all for nothing
august made all trees autumnal
i put the dry flesh of berries
into my mouth
like the words
that i can’t stick to

i have promised to love for two
but my love lacks for any one

Без назви

я постійно ходжу тією дорогою
де на асфальті чорніє шрам
гальмівного сліду
я знову й знову приходжу сюди
хоча до старого болю
краще не повертатися

дощ так часто
зводить між нами
стіну плачу
та дарма:
серпень зробив всі дерева осінніми
я кладу
сухі тіла ягід собі до рота
наче слова яких не можу
дотримати

я обіцяла любити за двох
та моєї любові не вистачить ні на кого

Original poem by DARYNA CHUPAT
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
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