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Love in Kyiv
by Natalka Bilotserkivets
translation by Michael R. Burch

Love is more terrible in Kyiv
than spectacular Venetian passions,
than butterflies morphing into bright tapers–
winged caterpillars bursting aflame!

Here spring has lit the chestnuts, like candles,
and we have cheap lipstick’s fruity taste,
the daring innocence of miniskirts,
and all these ill-cut coiffures.

And yet images, memories and portents still move us...
all so tragically obvious, like the latest fashion.

Here you’ll fall victim to the assassin’s stiletto,
your blood coruscating like rust
reddening a brand-new Audi in a Tartarkan alley.

Here you’ll plummet from a balcony
headlong into your decrepit little Paris,
wearing a prim white secretarial blouse.

Here you can no longer discern the weddings from the funerals,
because love in Kyiv is more terrible
than the tired slogans of the New Communism.

Phantoms emerge these inebriated nights
out of Bald Mountain, bearing
red banners and potted red geraniums.

Here you’ll die by the assassin’s stiletto:
plummet from a balcony,
tumble headlong into a brand-new Audi in a Tartarkan alley,
spiral into your decrepit little Paris,
your blood coruscating like rust
on a prim white secretarial blouse.


"Words terrify when they remain unspoken." – Lina Kostenko, translation by Michael R. Burch


Unsaid
by Lina Kostenko
translation by Michael R. Burch

You told me “I love you” with your eyes
and your soul passed its most difficult exam;
like the tinkling bell of a mountain stream,
the unsaid remains unsaid.

Life rushed past the platform
as the station's speaker lapsed into silence:
so many words spilled by the quill!
But the unsaid remains unsaid.

Nights become dawn; days become dusk;
Fate all too often tilted the scales.
Words rose in me like the sun,
yet the unsaid remains unsaid.


Let It Be
by Lina Kostenko
translation by Michael R. Burch

Let there be light! The touch of a feather.
Let it be forever. A radiant memory!
This world is palest birch bark,
whitened in the darkness from elsewhere.

Today the snow began to fall.
Today late autumn brimmed with smoke.
Let it be bitter, dark memories of you.
Let it be light, these radiant memories!

Don't let the phone arouse your sorrow,
nor let your sadness stir with the leaves.
Let it be light, ’twas only a dream
barely brushing consciousness with its lips.

Ukraine, Ukrainian, translation, Lina Kostenko, Natalka Bilotserkivets, Kyiv, love, war, passion, spring, blood, funerals, words, sad
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