Poems By Mykola Martyniuk

বাংলা English

* * *

There are wounds
in our past
from the Tatar toxic herbs
which turned to dust
of dried out scenes of fire
Тhey mar us still today
with the legacy of their world
Our future has a sharp smell
of freshly cut acorus
And we
bla bla
babble
flinging sharply
back the old rake
and we will cover our heads
obstinately thick
with ashes
Thank God
we are not endowed
by countless Tatars
and janissaries
on the intersections
and along
the epochs

© Translated from Ukrainian by Bronislava Volkova, 2019

A Prayer to Bread

Our daily bread
a piece holy and a bit stale
a somewhat raw slice from the bottom
You smell of blood and then
also of hardworking hands
and eternal life
But never – death
and black misery
You are both sweet and salty
and bitter at the same time
you will only embitter me always
with the 1922, 1933 and 1947 years
In you, essential, there is an unrecognized essence
and a great puzzle
and immeasurable love
In your piece – a mother’s kiss
You are a warm memory of childhood
dewy with healing well water
and generously powdered with sugar
Your crumbs are a warning
of staleness of souls
of sins not forgiven
of sacrilege
You are real like the world
light and clean
like a candid tear
I rely on you and pray to you
I live through you and reawaken
now all the time
for ever
in all generations
Amen

© Translated from Ukrainian by Bronislava Volkova, 2020

* * *

Night
was hiding
the sky painted by winds
in a contemporary style
on the palette of the day
behind the black square of Malevich
And by morning
the colors  went pale
transforming
yesterday’s masterpiece
into today’s
banal copy
palimpsest
with and on the canvas of a genius
How can they know
that the newest
most perfect
and most complete
harmony is unable
to save
and protect
this world
from premature
aging

* * *

Life is not a prose
and not a classical verse
Life is a free verse
stylized
into strange
sacral
circles on water
drawn
by the style of an element

© Translated from Ukrainian by Bronislava Volkova, 2019

Mykola Martyniuk
Mykola Martyniuk is a Ukrainian poet, author, literary scholar and critic, translator and teacher. He was born on March 14 1971 in the village of Zalibivka in the Rivne region. Since 1986, he lives in in Lutsk in the Volyn region. He graduated the Volyn State University of Lesya Ukrainka in the area of Ukraine studies. He is a Candidate of Sciences, Associate Professor and Chair of the Department of Philology at the Lutsk Pedagogical Institute. 
He also used to work as a journalist, editor, director of radio programs and a director of the Lesya Ukrainka Museum. 
He is a founder and a director of the publishing house Tverdynja. 
He is a member of  National Association of  Writers and of Journalists and has been awarded a number of prestigious literary awards. He participated in many Ukrainian and international literature festivals.
He is an author of nine books of poetry, prose (e. g. Eleventh Command, 1997, Mushroom Rain, 2004, World beyond the Braille, 2012, Under the Walls of the Fortress, 2012, Above the Svitjaz’ Window, 2013, Or…Or…, 2014 and others) and scholarly studies and six books of translations, as well as selections in almanacs, anthologies and other professional and literary editions. 
He translates from Bulgarian, Macedonian, Polish, Czech, Byelorussian and Russian. His poetry has been translated into Bulgarian, Polish, Czech, English, Greek, Byelorussian and Russian.
 

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