Zbornik Mednarodnega literarnega srečanja Vilenica 2004 - Ljudmila

Vasyl Makhno
the ocean is all around us – the hieroglyph of its name
who’ll be the first to soak their feet and walk on water ?
and only a died out candle like a finger shows the wind’s direction
* * *
For Ivan Drach
Like a heavy door – you close the Millennium
the snow of the past flies after us
like stones. And only the hills and the foxes
are unmoving and warm, like the rain.
An empty tree gives us a ring the line
of its shadow – the crumbled glass of a sound –
and the earthly fruits scented by a fox grow bitterer
is it indeed river? And the air’s black silk
tears where angels fly
ask no one – we shall close their lips with lock and key
no one will see them – and no one will hear
the flute of a voice resembling a lark song
for they have dissolved into white mist, into the milk of air
chase a shadow and observe the plum blossom
compose your songs whose every sound is a well of sorrow
the lines of letters are golden threads of light, and the yarn
of the pine forest. The river darkens, heard from the suburbs,
and last night’s doubt solidifies in a stone garden
tell no one – for it’s growing dark and the flame of a lantern
half-illuminates you a fox and earthly fruits
and from afar a river dins as heavy as a skirt
the stones fly after them the plum blossom
sticks to the lips you spit it out and do not understand
why there is so much of it in the stone garden of solitude
Translated by author, Richard Burns, and Vitaly Chernetsky
257