TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Young Ukrainian Poets: Artur Dron

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.

Izium’s eucharist

“…this is My Body, which is broken for you for the remission of sins”
From The Divine Liturgy

***
These are our bodies,
which are broken for us.
But not the remission of sins.

These are our bodies,
which, sometimes, break so easily,
when they are pulled out of the ground.

Here are our forests, and here – our crosses.
And these are the bodies,
which are broken only for us.

Now You see clearly:
we are like your Son.
But not the remission of sins.
Look:
the very same bones piercing through,
the very same blood and water.
But not the remission of sins.
Hear:
the very same scream, the very same silence.

This is how it looks like
Izium’s eucharist.
Here are our forests, and here – our crosses,
and the live unbury the dead and say:
these are our bodies, these are our very bodies.
We are so like your Son.
These are our bodies, look, these are our very bodies.
We have long been like your Son.
So many bodies, look, so many bodies.
We are – your younger Son,
who will grant no one
the remission.

Ізюмське причастя

«…це є Тіло Моє, що за вас ламається на відпущення гріхів»
З тексту Божественної літургії

***
Це є тіла наші,
що за нас ламаються.
Але жодного відпущення гріхів.

Це є тіла наші,
що, буває, так легко ламаються,
коли їх витягують з-під землі.

Тут наші ліси, а тут – наші хрести.
А це є тіла,
що тільки за нас ламаються.

Тепер добре бачиш:
ми як твій син.
Тільки жодного відпущення гріхів.
Дивись:
ті ж кістки виходять назовні,
та ж кров і вода.
Але жодного відпущення гріхів.
Слухай:
той самий крик, те саме мовчання.

Так виглядає
Ізюмське причастя.
Тут наші ліси, а тут – наші хрести,
а живі викопують мертвих і говорять:
це наші тіла, це ж наші тіла.
Ми такі схожі на твого сина.
Це наші тіла, подивися, це ж наші тіла.
Ми вже давно як твій син.
Стільки тіл, подивись, стільки тіл.
Ми – твій молодший син,
який нікому цього
не відпустить.

Original poem by ARTUR DRON
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA

© All rights reserved 2024

TROTTERSVILLE #10

You can find TROTTERSVILLE #1 here > Ba Dum Tish!

by TONY SINGLE & TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2024

eyes in the storm

my favourite gift is a closed one
that moment where nothing is known
that calm before an unwrapping storm
in anticipation of what’s to come

my favourite book is a closed one
that moment where nothing happens
that calm before a reading storm
in anticipation of what’s to come

my favourite lips are closed ones
that moment where nothing is said
that calm before a kissing storm
in anticipation of what’s to come

my favourite heart is an open one
so tell me true, are you ready for war
many shall ride the carousel with me
but few shall choose to stand with me

my favourite casket is a closed one
that moment where nothing remains
that calm after the final storm of
memories of all that’s come & gone

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

from silence we rose

they say there will be a golden age
when the lion lays down with the lamb
& i say there will be a golden age
when the lamb goes for the lion’s jugular

we cannot sup safely with the fascists
without them exacting their pound of flesh
there’s no more time for demure silence
when they’re raising goblets full of our own blood

when free thinkers are chained to dogma
& women are made the property of man
they’ll poke their noses into every bedroom
declare that our love violates god’s will

we cannot lay down & be fucked like this
we lambs must sharpen our teeth for the fight
stub their gaping throats with righteous ire
with the shepherd’s crook we took back from fools

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024

fearocity

you can’t seriously believe
that the rabble will become tamer
if you let them rattle the bones
paint their faces with bird droppings
and kill one another out of fear

aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
presiding over flesh and bone

you can’t seriously believe
that billionaires are ethical
or in their dreams of conquering mars
when the rabble are crushed by mad cars
and clip one another out of fear

aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
feasting on feather, flesh and bone

you can’t seriously believe
that they seriously believe
they’re the villains of their stories
in such apocalyptic dreams
fighting high and low out of fear

aren’t we all demons in sunlight
perched on the corpses of angels
aren’t we all angels in shadow
pricking with pitchforks feather and bone

by TETIANA ALEKSINA & TONY SINGLE
© All rights reserved 2024