Stanzas for Ukraine – 18

To Speak by Oksana Osmolovska, translated from the Ukrainian by Stephen Komarnyckyj


I am ashamed to admit it but I was ‘above politics’ and even proud of it for a long time. I was of course for the Maidan and a little later I was against the annexation of Crimea and Donetsk along with Luhansk. However, I didn’t actively participate in these processes. This was partly because I had never been interested in politics before, I hadn’t dug into it (indeed until 2017 I believed that the terms ‘right’ and ‘left’ referred to the seating positions in the parliamentary session hall) so I didn’t let myself discuss it, partly because I had too strong a sentimental attachment to Russian culture. I remember being extremely annoyed when someone incited hatred against Russians and in effect cancelled their culture. I banned several people from interacting with me because of their Russophobia. I thought that was enough.


However, after 24 February 2022, I began to think my stance wasn’t sufficient for obvious reasons. Pericles once said rightly that ‘if you are not interested in politics this doesn’t mean politics isn’t interested in you’. Previously I wrote texts about everything except the war. Now I don’t write about anything but the war. I am an eyewitness and to some extent a participant in a battle upon the outcome of which depends on the existence of my state and, most probably, myself and all those in my social circle. Triumphing in this fight is our most important task so not writing about the war if you are Ukrainian is practically a crime. In the context of the Russo-Ukrainian war there is no place for such concepts as ‘above politics’ and ‘everything isn’t so unambiguous’ – this must be reflected in the texts written by my contemporaries, including poetry, prose and journalism. That’s because these texts both now and in the future will play a significant role in forming the historical memory of the war.  The perspective on which future generations will study it depends on them.

I am happy that Ukrainian writers are finally being noticed by the world. I am not happy at the price that has been paid. I am among those who has attracted attention, resulting in a PEN Club sponsorship, publication in four anthologies, one of which was international. I was hardly noticed before the Great War so sometimes the thought creeps into my head that my modest honours have been awarded solely because I am Ukrainian and write about the war. However, it is nevertheless still a positive development. Ukrainian voices have become audible on the international stage, a luxury that was previously available to Russians but not to us. We can only hope that they are still heard after our victory even if not on such a mass scale. Many of our authors deserve it.

How do you write texts about the war? You can answer ‘however you like’ of course but that isn’t sufficient. I won’t share my own criteria here because it is still too early to do so. The criteria determining what constitutes a good text about the war will be formed retroactively after our victory from those texts that become part of the literary canon. However, I can already express one of them, being honest with yourself. If you want to ‘live’ in a text that is really that of another person, rather than using your own experience, you need to ask yourself a thousand times if it is really worthwhile, and whether such a text will become a distorted mirror or indeed a lie. Should people like me, who saw things as they are too late, be valued less? It’s hardly timely to consider this but we nevertheless we should know our place. The voices of those for whom the invasion was not a surprise are more valuable on a priori grounds, if not always in literary terms, then certainly on a historical basis. The renowned Ukrainian volunteer Mariia Berlinska once said that ‘our country is now the oldest adult in the world’. This is true: all of us (apart from those who have not passed through the phase of displacement and oppression) have grown up because we had no alternative. This concerns not only myself – a number of my friends and acquaintances lament the fact that they grew up so late, and not when the war began in 2014. This would not of course have made the Russian invasion any less inevitable, but it would have allowed us more time to prepare. However, thinking about this all the time while gnawing at your elbows is harmful and we must prepare for victory based on what we have now. Indeed, we already have quite a lot to build on and will have even more. How do you write texts about the war? You can answer ‘however you like’ of course but that isn’t sufficient. I won’t share my own criteria here because it is still too early to do so. The criteria determining what constitutes a good text about the war will be formed retroactively after our victory from those texts that become part of the literary canon. However, I can already express one of them, being honest with yourself. If you want to ‘live’ in a text that is really that of another person, rather than using your own experience, you need to ask yourself a thousand times if it is really worthwhile, and whether such a text will become a distorted mirror or indeed a lie. Should people like me, who saw things as they are too late, be valued less? It’s hardly timely to consider this but we nevertheless we should know our place. The voices of those for whom the invasion was not a surprise are more valuable on a priori grounds, if not always in literary terms, then certainly on a historical basis. The renowned Ukrainian volunteer Mariia Berlinska once said that ‘our country is now the oldest adult in the world’. This is true: all of us (apart from those who have not passed through the phase of displacement and oppression) have grown up because we had no alternative. This concerns not only myself – a number of my friends and acquaintances lament the fact that they grew up so late, and not when the war began in 2014. This would not of course have made the Russian invasion any less inevitable, but it would have allowed us more time to prepare. However, thinking about this all the time while gnawing at your elbows is harmful and we must prepare for victory based on what we have now. Indeed, we already have quite a lot to build on and will have even more. 

Apart from this I want to wish my literary colleagues who are now soldiers this: come back alive and not just because I want that. War literature will be followed by post war literature: the rethinking and crystallisation of our experience. Without you, the people who see the worst manifestations of the war first-hand, post-war literature will be impoverished.

I will only speak with Russian writers, even the ‘good’ ones, after the full payment of reparations to Ukrainians. That is how it must be.  It is our turn to speak now you have infringed it for many centuries under the pretext of ‘just ask me’.

It is the 6^th of January today. In just under two months the Russo-Ukrainian war will have lasted a year. We didn’t anticipate that we would hold out for so long: many people thought it would be over in three days. However, now we will hold on for as long as we need to, at least most of us will. Because now we are one hundred percent sure that ahead of us lies our victory. Meanwhile we must fight, volunteer and speak. Speak to the whole world.


Poems

-*-
Хочеш побажати чогось хорошого – побажай мені легкої смерті.
Так, щоб не минуло навіть долі секунди.
Щоб на мені не зім’явся одяг, не попливла косметика,
Щоб про мене сказали: «стильно померла, паскуда».
Щоб я викликАла ніжність у зайди, щоб не смів мене зачепити,
Ні поглядом, ані дотиком, ані жестом.
Щоб він із мого лиця ікону святої зчитував,
Щоб у нього був, мать його, архетипний трепет перед божественним.
Щоб я лежала так гарно, як пролягала вздовж моря межа,
Аж поки вони не прийшли ніким не запрошені.
Я повторюю: легкої смерті  мені побажай,
Якщо вже хочеш мені побажати чогось хорошого.

If you want to wish me something good wish me an easy death
One that doesn’t last even a fraction of a second
So my clothes don’t rumple or my make up run
So they say of me “you died in style you bastard”
So that I evoke tenderness in the incomer
So he doesn’t dare to catch at me
With glance or touch or gesture:
So that he reads my face as a Saint’s Icon
So that he, the mother, feels an archetypal awe before divinity.
So that I lay as beautiful as the boundary by the sea
Until they uninvited come: and I repeat
Wish me an easy death,
If you want to wish me something good.

_*_
українська дитина засмучується, коли виростає,
бо її – дорослу – буде не так шкода.
просто зараз наді мною летить татьяна толстая!
не влучай у мене, татьяна,
бачиш, он там – вода!


протри окуляри, татьяна, глянь як красиво:
шовковиця лащиться до горіха, сирена лащиться до вікна.
татьяна мене не слухала, татьяну небом носило.


а тепер я скажу дещо моторошне:
безкінечна весна!

The Ukrainian child is sorry as she grows
Because when she is an adult there will be less regret:
Right over me now Tatyana Tolstaya flies!
Oh, don’t target me Tatyana!
For look, yonder lies water!

Wipe your glasses Tatyana look how beautiful it is!
The mulberry caresses the walnut tree, the siren caresses the window:
Tatyana did not listen to me, Tatyna was borne by the sky.


And now I say, more anxiously
Spring passes endlessly!

ANNA UND MARTA BADEN

анна і марта купаються. це вчили у кожній школі.
десь там далеко в німеччині – скільки завгодно води.
наталка бере підручник і передає сашкові.
якого завтра вестимуть, здогадуєтесь, куди?
цей день був давно й неправда. і згадувати не варто.
якби тільки час вернути. вернути людей якби.
а десь там далеко в німеччині купалися анна і марта.
і досі мабуть купаються. потворні старі баби.

ANNA UND MARTA BADEN

Anna and Marta bathe. They study this in every school.
Somewhere far away in Germany – as much water as they want!
Natalka takes the textbook and hands it to Sasha.
Who will be taken tomorrow you can guess where?
This day was long ago and untrue and not worthy to remember.
If only time would return. If people were returned.
And somewhere far in Germany Anna and Marta bathe
And probably bathe still. Disfigured old women.

_*_

Питаєш за що триматися…Тримайся за власну руку
Тримайся за власну голову. Тримайся й не відпускай
Тримайся за себе рідна. Свого єдиного друга.
Свого єдиного бога і ним же створений рай.
І ним же створене пекло. І ним же створений всесвіт.
І ним же створену радість. І ним же створену лють.
І що б там тобі не сталось – тримайся за себе сестро.
Бо сильні у тебе руки. Вони тебе донесуть.

You ask what is there to hold onto… hold onto your own hand
Hold on to your own head. Hold on and don’t let go.
Hold on to your kin.  Hold on to your sole friend.
Your sole God and the heaven he created.
And the hell he created. And the universe he created.
And the joy he created. And the rage he created.
And whatever happens hold on to yourself.
Because you have strong hands. They will carry you.

_*_

внаслідок нестабільної ситуації в Україні
мешканку міста Б. травмовано
за допомогою вогнепальної зброї


війна призвела до зникнення речей
із будинку жителя міста Л.


мешканка міста І. спокійно вигулювала собаку
але стався прикрий збіг обставин:
зненацька невідомо звідки прилетіла ракета


неспроможність України досягти консенсусу з сусідами
посприяла розриву трьох мешканців міста В.
на фрагменти, які не підлягають упізнанню


вони стояли в черзі за питною водою
коли їх раптом торкнувся конфлікт


ми кричимо:
росія росія
це все зробила росія


вони пишуть: Африка голодує,
якщо Україна не сіє


ми кричимо: цю жінку вбили російські солдати своїми російськими руками

вони пишуть: ми глибоко занепокоєні, що конфлікт триває роками


цивільний мешканець їхав на Захід.
тікав від конфлікту, але не втік.
Бо конфлікт – розстрілює, підкравшись ззаду. Весна. 2022 рік.

As a result of the unstable situation in Ukraine,
A resident of the city B was injured
With the assistance of a firearm.


The war has led to the disappearance of things
From the house of a resident of city L.


A resident of city I. was walking her dog calmly
When an unpleasant confluence of circumstances occurred:
It is not known from where the missile flies suddenly.


Ukraine’s inability to reach a consensus with its neighbours
contributed to the discombobulation of three residents of city B.
Into unrecognisable fragments


They were stood in line for drinking water
When they were suddenly affected by the conflict


We cry
Russia, Russia
Russia did all this


They write that Africa will starve
If Ukraine does not sow its crops


We cry: this woman was killed by Russian soldiers
With their own Russian hands


They write: we are deeply concerned
That the conflict has continued for several years


A civilian resident went to the west.
She fled the conflict but did not flee it utterly.
Because the conflict: it shoots
Stealing up from behind. Spring. In the year 2022.

_*_
внаслідок нестабільної ситуації в Україні
мешканку міста Б. травмовано
за допомогою вогнепальної зброї


війна призвела до зникнення речей
із будинку жителя міста Л.


мешканка міста І. спокійно вигулювала собаку
але стався прикрий збіг обставин:
зненацька невідомо звідки прилетіла ракета


неспроможність України досягти консенсусу з сусідами
посприяла розриву трьох мешканців міста В.
на фрагменти, які не підлягають упізнанню


вони стояли в черзі за питною водою
коли їх раптом торкнувся конфлікт


ми кричимо:


росія росія
це все зробила росія


вони пишуть: Африка голодує,
якщо Україна не сіє


ми кричимо: цю жінку вбили російські солдати своїми російськими руками


вони пишуть: ми глибоко занепокоєні, що конфлікт триває роками


цивільний мешканець їхав на Захід.
тікав від конфлікту, але не втік.
Бо конфлікт – розстрілює, підкравшись ззаду. Весна. 2022 рік.

As a result of the unstable situation in Ukraine,
A resident of the city B was injured
With the assistance of a firearm.


The war has led to the disappearance of things
From the house of a resident of city L.


A resident of city I. was walking her dog calmly
When an unpleasant confluence of circumstances occurred:
It is not known from where the missile flies suddenly.


Ukraine’s inability to reach a consensus with its neighbours
contributed to the discombobulation of three residents of city B.
Into unrecognisable fragments


They were stood in line for drinking water
When they were suddenly affected by the conflict


We cry
Russia, Russia
Russia did all this


They write that Africa will starve
If Ukraine does not sow its crops


We cry: this woman was killed by Russian soldiers
With their own Russian hands


They write: we are deeply concerned
That the conflict has continued for several years


A civilian resident went to the west.
She fled the conflict but did not flee it utterly.
Because the conflict: it shoots
Stealing up from behind. Spring. In the year 2022.

_*_
навіщо люди стають такими красивими,
коли в їхній дім приходить війна?
з якою метою їхні риси обличч
загострюються, як відчуття справедливості?
якого біса очі стають прозорими, як моря,
в яких тонуть російські крейсери
неможливо зрозуміти, чому міжбрівні зморшки
стають глибокими, як окопи,
з яких наші так мітко стріляють по ворогу?


я не можу відірвати погляду від цієї жінки.
вона була звичайною жінкою з сусідньої вулиці,
жінкою з черги за покупками,
жінкою з натовпу в ранковому автобусі…
а стала – жінкою з полотна, жінкою з кіно, жінкою з поеми,
жінкою з ікони.
«я не розумію, чим я заслужила те, що мене зобразили на іконі і повісили в
храмі, – каже вона. –
я просто годувала дитину в бомбосховищі.
якби я годувала її так само рік тому в кафе –
мене б прогнали з кафе».


і тут раптом я розумію, що ми не стали красивими:
ми завжди були такими.
просто зараз нам випала нагода побачити себе
очима іконописця.



Why do people become so beautiful
When war comes into their home?
With what purpose do their features sharpen
Like a sense of justice?
Why do their eyes become transparent like the sea
In which Russian cruisers sink?
Is it impossible to understand why the wrinkles between their eyebrows
Deepen like the trenches
From which our soldiers so accurately shoot the foe?


I can’t take my eyes off this woman
She was an ordinary woman from the next street
Stood in line for shopping
In the throng for the morning bus…


She has become a woman from a canvas, a woman from a film, a woman from a poem
A woman from an icon.
“I don’t understand why I deserved this,
They painted me on an icon and hung it in church” she says
“I was just breastfeeding a child in a bomb shelter.
If I had fed her like that last year
In a cafe they would have kicked me out”.


And I understand that we have not become beauty
We always been this way
But now we have the chance to see ourselves
With an Icon Painter’s eye.

Invitation to Write by Elżbieta Wójcik-Leese



Stanzas for Ukraine: Let’s Write with Ukrainian Authors



In the manner borrowed from the Poetry School’s ‘Transreading’ practice, this blog series invites us to write in conversation with Ukrainian authors. Our close readings and our new texts are also gestures of our support and appreciation. As writers, we too can learn from our Ukrainian colleagues and their international translators.

‘being honest with yourself’
Invitation to write by Elżbieta Wójcik-Leese


Being honest with ourselves as one of the prerequisites for writing about war – that’s one certainty and principle Oksana Osmolovska formulates for herself, a vital part of her necessary poetics. Being honest with ourselves – what does it entail in our own writing, even if its concerns may be (fortunately for us) far from war? For instance, we are all mortal. How can we be honest with ourselves about death: ours, our loved ones, those whom we do not know… ‘Wish me an easy death, / If you want to wish me something good,’ insists one of Osmolovska’s poems. If we are honest with ourselves, what is ‘an easy death’ like? ‘When an unpleasant confluence of circumstances occurred,’ reports another poem, a resident of the city B, a resident of the city L (and many more) found themselves entangled in particular scenarios. If you live through or imagine ‘an unpleasant confluence,’ how can your honesty bear upon your expression? May similar residents of cities (real or imaginary) assist you in your thinking?


You’re always welcome to invent your own writing games in response to the presented poems. Share your texts with our writing community here.


The sixteen previous invitations to write can be found here.

Invitation to Donate


This project aims to support refugees displaced by the conflict through raising funds for the World Central Kitchen. Please consider donating via their site here.

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Oksana Osmolovska (1989- ) is a poet, journalist, translator and editor from Cherkasy, Ukraine whose war poetry is distinguished by a clarity and emotional honesty that allow her to deal with the most difficult topics.

Poetry School is proud to have partnered with tutors Steve Komarnyckyj and Elżbieta Wójcik-Leese, and PEN International’s Judyth Hill to publish Stanzas for Ukraine.


Every fortnight we publish a blog written by some of the most significant contemporary Ukrainian poets, who will reflect upon the more than 300 years of historical conflict their country has endured, the on-going struggle, and highlight poems and voices from the past and present. This will launch a new strand of Poetry School work, giving voice to those globally who are being silenced and providing a platform for those suffering forced migration. Future strands will include Syria, Afghanistan, Somalia, and more.