Tag Archives: Writing

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

GUEST POST // August 7, 2022 by kipventures

an ode to circus bruises

you browngreygreenpurplebluesometimesred
indication that a new skill has been unlocked
and unlocked
and unlocked again
continued practice making more marks
but eventually
in a week
or two
or month
or so
you’ll fade to skin
and the skill will be rote
and the bruises no longer pop up
because my body
now knows
that pose

and on to the next one

by KIPVENTURES
© All rights reserved 2022

GUEST POST // This Was Home by Paul! Lang

The first syllable rises from my tongue
As I twist it in a knot
Evoke
There are frogs singing in the darkness behind my house and
Today of all days, the day of my unmaking
You came in to my castle, broke the walls down and
Sent me spiraling into my own vortex
You can fall into yourself just like
A corpse can tumble headlong into the trenches under heavy gunfire
War and relationship
And endless false prayers for peace
We twist about interminably
But in the end, we always soldier on

by PAUL! LANG
© All rights reserved 2023

GUEST POST // Writing on the Train by Charles Joseph

it’s the sense of having nothing to do—
though surrounded by inspiration
conversations bombarding the ear
start an analyzation.
My thoughts becoming lamps hanging
in the obscure tunnel that i travel
with a hissing passion bringing me
to astonishment.
before my destination, I arrive at an idea sometimes
it waits for me—standing on the platform alone,
in the open air, where cold wind brings the echoes
the bench sitting in suspense, waiting for its purpose

by CHARLES JOSEPH
© All rights reserved 2022

TATI’S TRANSLATIONS // Young Ukrainian Poets: Kateryna Balashova

Tati Translates Kateryna Balashova

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.

noon

sometimes i like finding myself in a room
with no clocks
observing how i’m growing human slowly
in an expanded space with no rhythm
feeling my hands immersed in their work
scenting my very presence
and my slender stance, like a dial’s needle
no one has seen that, but
when sunlight is pouring down my collar
i lay my shadow on the floor
and so align my next step

полудень

часом люблю опинитися в кімнаті
без годинників
і дивитися як я поволі олюднююся
в розширеному просторі без ритму
чуючи власні руки занурені в працю
відчуваючи запах своєї присутності
й тонкість постави як стрілку компаса
ніхто цього не побачить але
коли сонце ллється за комір
я вкладаю свою тінь на підлогу
і так визначаю наступний крок

Original poem by KATERYNA BALASHOVA
Translation by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2023