30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 18 - "Even if you left those places"

Day 18 brings us a new poet, thanks to some recommendations I sought out from local friends here in my city. Serhiy Zhadan, born in 1974, is the youngest poet whose work I have included so far in 30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry. When you have a bit of time for longer reading, this New Yorker profile of Serhiy Zhadan is one of the best pieces about Ukraine I have ever read in English-language media. I have seen almost no western media really "get" the conflict in eastern Ukraine - but this piece gets it, while giving a vivid portrait of the man behind the verses.

By now you might be getting the feeling that most Ukrainian poets are somehow connected to each other; I'm certainly starting to think so. Serhiy wrote his dissertation about the neofuturist approach of Mykhaylo Semenko, whose work I featured early on in this challenge, back on Day 3. (By the way - Day 3's poem is one of my favorites, yet it somehow has the fewest views. Go show it some love, and get a refresher on neofuturist Ukrainian poetry while you're at it).

And now back to today. The title of today's poem struck me immediately: "Even if you left those places". In 2013 I left behind my hometown, then in 2016 my home state, and in 2017 my home country, to live two continents and an ocean away in yet another place I will leave. With my departure from Ukraine ever looming in a rapidly-approaching future, a poem about leaving places - and, perhaps, rushing back - caught my interest right away.

Навіть якби ти покинула ті місця

Сергій Жадан

Навіть якби ти покинула ті місця
в яких народилась і де лишалась чекати,
де формувались риси твого лиця
і починались географічні карти,

навіть якби ти вживала чужі слова,
торкалась чужих плечей і чужих простирадел,
і навіть звідтіль, куди мало хто заплива,
не поверталась, хоч хто би тобі не радив,

навіть якби ти тікала від власних слідів,
від власних снігів на подвір'ї і сонця в ринвах,
якби уникала присмерків і холодів,
приспавши чужих кошенях на своїх колінах,

ти би примчала, всупереч всім листам,
назад — де високі дими і гарячі стіни,
напевне знаючи, що навіть там
ти його не зустрінеш.

Even if you left those places

Serhiy Zhadah

Even if you left those places
in which you were born and stayed waiting
where the lines of your face formed
and geographic maps began

even if you consumed foreign words,
rubbed shoulders with foreign people and foreign sheets,
and even from there, where few end up,
never returned, regardless of what people advised,

even if you escaped your own footprints, 
your own snows on the homestead and sun on the gutters, 
if you escaped hopelessness and cold, 
putting foreign kittens to sleep on your knee, 

you, contrary to all your letters, would come running
back - where there are high fumes and hot walls, 
surely knowing, that even there
you will not find it.  

The last line of this poem is vague to me; the way Ukrainian pronouns work, it could be either "it" or "him", and I'm really not sure which one it is. What I do know, is that he or it will not be there to meet this returned wanderer should they indeed wander and then return. Either way, it still seems to make sense.

For the record, I have indeed been consuming foreign words, sleeping on foreign sheets, and putting foreign cats to sleep on my lap. And for the record, my home indeed is a place of smoke and fire and hot, burning walls - although I haven't come rushing back to it yet.




The contents of this blog reflect my personal views and experiences only and are not indicative of the views of Peace Corps or of the governments of the US or Ukraine. That should be obvious, but policies are policies.