They bomb me from afar, although
here, all is quiet and still:
the silent stream, the silent grove,
the sky above the hill.
It seems as if year, week and hour
crouch in a catacomb.
And though they bomb me from afar,
each strike is hitting home.
A shock of electricity –
I feel as if I’m lost,
and this quiet town in Germany
looks almost like a ghost.
Between us, friends, through hill and plain
runs a connecting line.
But I dare not compare your pain,
your dreadful pain, with mine.
Because I live in foreign lands,
I feel, day after day,
a mix of guilt, powerlessness, angst
for being far away
from my Ukraine whose armor lets
the whole world carry on,
while where I live, I’m but a guest
who might as well be gone.
And all the time the same, same thought
bores tunnels in my mind.
And I can hear blasts rumbling – not
in town, but deep inside.
But I’ll be useful, I’ll pull through
to help you… I believe,
admire you and take pride in you.
I love you. And I grieve.
Please do not break my lifeline to
you, while I grow my pain.
I may forgive myself, if you
forgive me, my Ukraine.
* * *
Меня бомбят издалека,
хотя вокруг покой —
молчит земля, молчит река
и небо над рекой.
Часы, недели и века
как будто скрылись в щель.
Меня бомбят издалека,
но попадают в цель.
По телу пробегает ток,
и видится с трудом
немецкий тихий городок,
похожий на фантом.
Друзья, нас поперек и вдоль
одна связала нить.
Но боль мою и вашу боль
не смею я сравнить.
Вдали от собственной страны
я ощущаю смесь
бессилья, гнева и вины
за то, что я не здесь —
не в Украине, чья броня
собой закрыла свет,
а там, где, кажется, меня
уже в помине нет.
И мысли только об одном,
хоть мозг до дыр сотри.
И слышен взрыв — не за окном,
а где-то там, внутри.
Но, может, я еще сгожусь,
я всё еще стерплю…
Я восхищаюсь. Я горжусь.
Я плачу. Я люблю.
Страна, не рви со мною нить,
пока я боль ращу.
Прости меня. И — может быть —
я сам себя прощу.
March 3, 2022
Mikhail Yudovsky was born in Kiev in 1966. Artist, poet, prose writer, translator. His poetry and prose have been published in Russian-language publications in many countries. His paintings were shown in many solo and group exhibitions. Nearly two hundred of his works are in museums and private collections around the world. He lives and works in Germany since 1992.
Dmitri Manin is a physicist, programmer, and translator of poetry. His translations from English and French into Russian have appeared in several book collections. His latest work is a complete translation of Ted Hughes’ “Crow” (Jaromír Hladík Press, 2020) and Allen Ginsberg’s “The Howl, Kaddish and Other Poems” (Podpisnie Izdaniya, 2021). Dmitri’s Russian-to-English translations have been published in journals (Cardinal Points, Delos, The Café Review, Metamorphoses etc) and in Maria Stepanova’s “The Voice Over” (CUP, 2021). In 2017, his translation of a poem by Stepanova won the Compass Award competition.
Every character in these twenty-two interlinked stories is an immigrant from a place real or imaginary. (Magic realism/immigrant fiction.)
In this collection, Andrey Kneller has woven together his own poems with his translations of one of the most recognized and celebrated contemporary Russian poets, Vera Pavlova.
This collection, compiled, translated, and edited by poet and scholar Ian Probstein, provides Anglophone audiences with a powerful selection of Mandelstam’s most beloved and haunting poems.
Four teenagers grow inseparable in the last days of the Soviet Union—but not all of them will live to see the new world arrive in this powerful debut novel, loosely based on Anton Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.
A book of poems in Russian by Victor Enyutin (San Francisco, 1983). Victor Enyutin is a Russian writer, poet, and sociologist who emigrated to the US from the Soviet Union in 1975.