Poems By Mykola Hrytsenko

বাংলা English


Lips – to the lips,
Wound – to the wound,
Soto love,
So – beloved?
How differently,
How else – on the second?!
The wind – in the chest.
Far distant – unknown…

The whole world is wide open.
The whole world is upside down.
Calls to marry…
Alien Europe.

Close your eyes –
You don’t see stars…
Why do you tremble?
Why do you cry so much?!


Above us, petals are
Clear sails.
Below us, is a sea
Of resilient herbage…
And the two of us –
Such a powerful force,
From which the mace

That power is inexhaustible
And unbearable.
She is
The only one in the world!
From her heart
The seagull suffers
And the sea is quelled,
Like war.

With that power
The nightingale flowers
And in the garden
Butterflies flutter …
From her to us.
We have nowhere to go:
And – no way forward
From her,
No way back.


Queen of my dreams…
When the rain falls softly –
I hold my breath
Kneel before you
Queen of my dreams.

Delicate flower-mother of May,
Pale curved neck and shoulders…
White hands like stork’s wings.
I catch this colour with my mouth –
Delicate flower-mother of May.

Quiet harbour, fog on the shores,
Misty windows of love,
The sun sinks in the sky every day
Appears like blood on the lips…
Quiet harbour, fog on the shores.

Queen of my dreams –
The rustle of dresses in spacious rooms.
Only pastel penates outside the window.
Dew comes from desire…
Queen of my dreams!

* * *

You are earthly and unearthly,
Like a bird …
My victory
And – defeat.
Delicate like thistledown …
And – fire.
You are so unhappy …
And – happy!

As you used to,
How did you endure:
Free birds wing
And – timidity,
And – mountain waterfall,
And – fires,
And the infinity of your
Bright borders!?


When we have a hundred, or two hundred,
Or even – three hundred ….
And the rain descends from the heavens,
And seeps into the depths …
And it falls hundreds of times
And the tender leaves bloom again,
That we with our fingers
Could touch …
If in – one hundred, in – two hundred …
As if – out of the fog
We would go out and stand
On the reflective young water,
And again, as – for the first time,
Or, maybe, for the first and last time,
We went down with flamingos
Pale pink gardens …
If only, if …
The sun rose from the west
And everything turned upside down
Like a scroll …
… We would fly again
Clear purple violet
With silver crowns
On our heads.

* * *

White seagull made of light silk
I covered your secret grove…
And to your hot well
Rolled a small egg…
When the time comes for desire –
The white seagull will lower her wings
And between her legs will wander frightened,
She will sleep on the cliff edge.
The sea will boil,
Young dolphins will sing!
… A boat will shuttle between them,
To emerge from the bottom of the sea!
… They will rise in fear at night
Knees of honey gold!
… In this moment, everything will be blown away
And nothing will be human!
… White seagull made of light silk.

Mykola Hrytsenko

Mykola Hrytsenko is a prolific contemporary Ukrainian writer. He was born on May 9, 1962. He is the author of 12 poetry and fiction books, a winner of many literary prizes, Honoured Artist of Ukraine. His poems were published in English, Polish, Bulgarian, and Russian translations.

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