30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 13 - "Contra spem spero"

Hello! It's lucky Day 13! Today we have another poem by Lesya Ukrainka, and its message of inspired perseverance makes it clear why, a generation later, fellow poet Vasyl Symonenko wrote about Lesya Ukrainka the way he did (see Day 8).

We're lucky today in that this poem has been both wonderfully translated into English, and that modern-day artists are setting it to music in really cool ways. Lesya wrote the poem in her early twenties when she was studying Greek and Latin in Kyiv - perhaps hence the Latin title "Contra spem spero". The same year she published this stubbornly hopeful piece in her first major collection, she was diagnosed with tuberculosis of the bone, a disease which required her to move away to warmer and drier climates (hence her collection "Crimean Memories", which includes our Day 4 poem).

I'd say a poem of stubborn perseverance and intentional positivity in hard times is especially relevant to all of my fellow Peace Corps Volunteers! I hope you enjoy it.

Contra Spem Spero

Леся Українка 

Гетьте, думи, ви, хмари осінні! 
То ж тепера весна золота! 
Чи то так у жалю, в голосінні 
Проминуть молодії літа? 

Ні, я хочу крізь сльози сміятись, 
Серед лиха співати пісні, 
Без надії таки сподіватись, 
Жити хочу! Геть думи сумні! 

Я на вбогім сумнім перелозі 
Буду сіять барвисті квітки, 
Буду сіять квітки на морозі, 
Буду лить на них сльози гіркі. 

І від сліз тих гарячих розтане 
Та кора льодовая, міцна, 
Може, квіти зійдуть – і настане 
Ще й для мене весела весна. 

Я на гору круту крем’яную 
Буду камінь важкий підіймать 
І, несучи вагу ту страшную, 
Буду пісню веселу співать. 

В довгу, темную нічку невидну 
Не стулю ні на хвильку очей, 
Все шукатиму зірку провідну, 
Ясну владарку темних ночей. 

Так! я буду крізь сльози сміятись, 
Серед лиха співати пісні, 
Без надії таки сподіватись, 
Буду жити! Геть думи сумні!

Contra Spem Spero

Lesya Ukrainka

Translated by Vera Rich

Thoughts away, you heavy clouds of autumn!
For now springtime comes, agleam with gold!
Shall thus in grief and wailing for ill-fortune
All the tale of my young years be told?

No, I want to smile through tears and weeping.,
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway, 
Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping,
I want to live! You thoughts of grief, away!

On poor sad fallow land unused to tilling
I'll sow blossoms, brilliant in hue,
I'll sow blossoms where the frost lies, chilling,
I'll pour bitter tears on them as due.

And those burning tears shall melt, dissolving
All that mighty crust of ice away.
Maybe blossoms will come up, unfolding
Singing springtime too for me, some day.

Up the flinty steep and craggy mountain
A weighty ponderous boulder I shall raise,
And bearing this dread burden, a resounding
Song I'll sing, a song of joyous praise.

In the long dark ever-viewless night-time
Not one instant shall I close my eyes,
I'll seek ever for the star to guide me,
She that reigns bright mistress of dark skies.

Yes, I'll smile, indeed, through tears and weeping
Sing my songs where evil holds its sway, 
Hopeless, a steadfast hope forever keeping,
I shall live! You thoughts of grief, away!

It took a few takes to not stumble over anything, but I didn't mind - this poem is a lot of fun to read.

And now for something the likes of which we haven't yet seen during 30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry, a truly modern musical take on this piece. Plus this gentleman isn't bad to look at ;-)

The contents of this blog reflect my views and experiences only, and are not indicative of views held by the Peace Corps or the governments of the US or Ukraine. 

30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 12 - "Do you know that you are a human?"

Day 12! Today I'd like to return to the work of Vasyl Symonenko, whose poetry I first featured on Day 8 of this 30-day challenge. The organization I work with has recently re-launched free walking tours of the city, and yesterday I went on our first one of the season. Vasyl's name came up when the tour came to a building where he had once worked for a newspaper. The guide told us about his prolific works and tragic, early death. Something about hearing his name come up in offline life after having found out about him online really struck me, and now that I know more about his connections to the community where I am serving, I'd like to dive into his work once again.

Selfie with a monument to Vasyl Symonenko

The poem I am sharing today is immensely popular. It is included in the standard 7th-grade Ukrainian literature curriculum, and it is easy to find recordings and even English translations of it. I like that the rhyme scheme is a little different than that of the other poems I've read so far; well suited to song, and indeed this poem has been sung. I think the sentiment is one that will resonate with many of us.

Fun fact: part of the text of today's poem is inscribed on the monument to Vasyl Symonenko in my city.

Ти знаєш, що ти – людина?

Василь Симоненко

Ти знаєш, що ти – людина?
Ти знаєш про це чи ні?
Усмішка твоя – єдина,
Мука твоя – єдина,
Очі твої – одні.

Більше тебе не буде.
Завтра на цій землі
Інші ходитимуть люди,
Інші кохатимуть люди –
Добрі, ласкаві й злі.

Сьогодні усе для тебе –
Озера, гаї, степи.
І жити спішити треба,
Кохати спішити треба –
Гляди ж не проспи!

Бо ти на землі – людина,
І хочеш того чи ні –
Усмішка твоя – єдина,
Мука твоя – єдина,
Очі твої – одні.

You know that you are a human… 

Vasyl Symonenko

Translated by Kyrylo Snizhko

You know that you are a human.
You know that, or do you not?
That smile of yours is unique to you,
That torment of yours is unique to you,
Your eyes no other person has got.

Tomorrow you won’t be here present.
Tomorrow on this blessed land
Others’ll be running and laughing,
Others’ll be feeling and loving;
Good people and bad ones, my friend.

Today all the world is for you:
Forests and hills, valleys deep.
So hurry to live, please, hurry!
So hurry to love, please, hurry!
Don’t miss out on it, don’t oversleep!

‘Cause you on this Earth are a human.
And whether you want it or not,
That smile of yours is unique to you,
That torment of yours is unique to you,
Your eyes no other person has got.

My only quips with the translation above are small ones: the first line wasn't left as a question, some extra words were added in the second stanza (probably because the translator wanted the syllables), and "go look!" was translated as "Don't miss out on it!". However, the translator did a much better job than I would on the rhyming and meter, and overall it is quite true to the original Ukrainian, so I figure it is better to share this translation than write another.

Now to the fun part - reading it!

There are a number of other readings of this poem on YouTube, and below is one of my favorites by renowned Ukrainian voice actor Mykhaylo Voychuk. He voices much of the Ukrainian dubbing for foreign films here.

And while we're at it, enjoy this musical version in all its cheesy, 1980's glory.

Here's to being a human on this planet! See you for Day 13.





A reminder that the content of this blog reflects my views and experiences only, and does not reflect the views of Peace Corps, or the US or Ukrainian governments. 

30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 11 - "Two Sister-Kittens"

A day late, but here we are with Day 11! Yesterday I was preoccupied with a kitten I found in a busy parking lot. She was clearly disoriented and confused, and not just a stray who had grown up in that area. I learned later that people commonly drop unwanted cats near where I found her. So, yesterday, I took that grace day I have by virtue of the fact that August is a 31-day month, and instead of reading poetry I spent my time taking this kitten to the vet, and, with the help of a few other Volunteers, removing a shocking number of fleas from her.

In honor of this little kitten, I have decided to delve into some Ukrainian children's verses. Ukraine has plenty of nursery rhymes and children's poems, and it didn't take me long to find one about a cat - or in this case, about two sister kittens.

Before we get to the poem, though, let's talk a bit about the author:
Gregoriy Boyko (1923 - 1978) was well known as a writer of lighthearted and funny children's poetry, as well as for his love of his native Donetska Oblast. Gregoriy Boyko's first published poetry collection, "My Donechchyna," was dedicated to his homeland. A note here on language: Cities and regions often have related names: Donetsk is a city, Donetska Oblast is the administrative region of which Donetsk is the capital, and Donechchyna refers to the Donetsk area in a more geographical and historical sense. If the name "Donetsk" sounds familiar to you, it may be because Gregoriy's beloved Donechchyna has for several years now been embroiled in conflict.

This 2014 map from the National Security and Defense Council of Ukraine gives a good idea of where the conflict has been taking place the last several years. 

It is often the case here in Ukraine that joy and sweetness coexist closely with loss and tragedy, and hence I am writing a bit about the war in a blog post that is otherwise devoted to kittens. Let's turn back now to the topic of kittens, and to the sort of humorous children's poetry for which Gregoriy Boyko is remembered.

Дві киці-сестриці

Григорій Бойко

Дві киці-сестриці,
Зелені очиці,
Дві киці-сестриці
Схотіли водиці.

Корито стареньке
Стоїть біля хати,
На ньому любенько
Сидять голуб'ята.

Дві киці-сестриці
Про воду й забули,
Дві киці-сестриці
Поживу зачули.

У них оченята
Горять, мов жаринки:
— Смачні голуб'ята,
Аж котиться слинка! —

Плигнули... Та птицям
Вдалося злетіти,
А киці-сестриці
Упали в корито.

В холодній водиці
Нявчать кошенята...
Що, киці-сестриці, 
Смачні голуб'ята?!

Two Sister Kittens

Gregoriy Boyko

Two sister kittens, 
Eyes of green,
Two sister kittens, 
Want something to drink

A little old trough
Stands next to the house,
And in this old trough
Sit sweet baby doves.

Two sister kittens
Forgot about drinking, 
Two sister kittens, 
About food started thinking.

The kittens' eyes gleaming 
 Bright like with fire
--Tasty little doves,
The kittens' mouths watered!-- 

The little birds flew away
When the kittens pounced,
And two sister-kittens
Fell into the trough. 

In the cold water
the kittens mew-mew.
So, sister kittens,
How'd those doves taste to you? 

I made a few pronunciation errors because I was juggling a kitten. But worth it.

No more renditions of that little poem to share with you guys, unfortunately. So here's another cat picture.

I cannot keep the kitten, as per my landlady's dislike of pets. If you are in the Cherkasy region or nearby and know of somebody who would love to adopt an affectionate, nicely behaved female kitten, please reach out. I'm in the process of making sure she is free of fleas and parasites, vaccinated, and spayed, and I would love to find a responsible owner.

30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 10 - "Of Days of Celebration"

Day 10 has brought me the time to actually enjoy some poetry before it gets too late in the evening - and thank goodness! The fine weather and fresh air have me looking for something cheerful, and I've found something uplifting indeed.

When I went a-googling today I came across an article "15 Ukrainian Writers Read by People Abroad". For my friends who read Ukrainian - I highly recommend it! For my friends who don't read Ukrainian - take a look anyway so you can see today's featured poet, Maria Matios. She's the lady with the glass of what looks like red wine (this may have influenced my decision to look into her poetry...) 

While some of Maria's work has been translated into English, especially her novels, I'm not so sure about her poetry. One may or may not be able to track down in some bookstore somewhere an English translation of the collection that includes today's poem (Жіночий аркан / A Woman's Lasso Dance), but I am hard pressed to find a translation online, and have hence done my own (with some help from my tutor). I started to wonder today whether my sharing and translation of these poems is permissible, so I did a bit of research, and it seems that according to the Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Poetry, I'm in the clear.  

Now to the poem: I think no further commentary is needed except to give a shout-out to parents everywhere. This poem captures the depth and profundity of love and parenthood in a simple little moment, and I think you guys will like it.   

Із Днів Свята.

Марія Матіос

Боже, в цей вечір великий світ
Тремтить, як тонка павутина.

Поклади руку на мій живіт – 
Там б"ється моя дитина.

Погладь і скажи їй, що ти робив
Сьогодні в цім світі впертім.

Вона ж мені скаже, що ти любив
Мене понад все.
Й безсмертно.

Вона там мізинцем малим пошкребе,
Шукаючи райську браму.

Вона тобі скаже, що я тебе
До смерті люблю.
Як мама.

Of Days of Celebration 

Maria Matios 

Good God, this evening the great world
is like a fine web trembling.

Put your hand on my belly - 
There my child is kicking. 

Caress her and tell her what you've been doing
In this stubborn world today. 

She tells me, that you've loved 
Me above everything.
And immortally. 

There, with her little pinky finger she'll prod,
Looking for Paradise's gates

She will tell you
That I will love you until death. 
Like a mother. 

30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 9 - "Manifest"

It's Day 9. Today we have a short poem because I am getting to this task late in the day, exhausted, and could only convince myself to do it by getting into my PJs, making a cup of tea, and promising myself it would just be a short one.

I decided to venture back into the work of contemporary poets, and today's little poem is rather interesting because the author is perhaps better known as a political scientist than as a poet. A quick Google search of his name brings up interview clips and articles about such complex topics as the stalled peace process between Ukraine and Russia, or the work of Ukraine's anti-monopoly committee. I was actually doubting that he is the same person, but Wikipedia and a bit of Facebook-stalking seem to confirm that Maksym Rozumny the scholar-pundit is indeed the same person as Maksym Rozumny the poet. After all, his last name does literally mean "smart" or "intelligent", and he has the doctorate to live up to it.

Without further ado, here is a piece from a series of poems sorted by season. With it being August, this one, of course, is from the "summer" section.

Маніфест 

Максим Розумний

Не нам, занедбаним і хворим,
спіткати велич і співати хором,
зійдуть і згаснуть наші зоряниці,
і проминуть нас вороги і молодиці.

Маршрутом екзотичним
я вирушив із себе,
і буду лиш дотичним
дахів, садів і неба.

Manifest

Maksym Rozumny

It is not for us, the sick and neglected,
to sing in chorus or meet with greatness,
our stars will come up and burn out,
enemies and maidens will pass us.

By an exotic route
I from myself departed,
and will be only a tangent
of roofs, and sky, and gardens.

And with that little bit of deliriously-tired filming, I'm calling it a night. See you for Day 10!



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30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 8 - "Lesya Ukrainka"

Hello again! Day 8 brings us into the second week of 30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry, so I decided it's time to get a little meta. Today's piece was written by one Ukrainian poet about another: Vasyl Symonenko, born in the 1930s and part of the dissident movement in the 1960s, wrote a poem titled "Lesya Ukrainka", after the poet from one generation earlier (turn of the 19th-20th century) whose work is featured on Day 4 of this challenge.

Vasyl Symonenko, I was interested to find out, spent a fair bit of time in my region of the country. He worked for several newspapers in Cherkasy Oblast, and died a young, tragic death in the small city of Smila. Already ailing from cancer, Vasyl was beaten by Soviet operatives at the very railway station I stop through on nearly all of my train trips (to get even more meta - the train station is named after poet Taras Shevchenko). Vasyl later died from his injuries at the local hospital. He was the same age I am now - 28.

Shevchenko Station, Smila. Photo from a Wikipedia article that appears to be written in Latvian. 

Vasyl Symonenko's poem about Lesya Ukrainka seems to be to be one of admiration and empathy. Although he describes her as "sickly" - she had tuberculosis of the bone - he conjures up images of great strength; of a warrior, even. This has been the toughest poem for me thus far in terms of complexity of language and imagery. It took a lot of googling and a lot of practice to get through it - but the story of Ukrainian poetry and the people behind it that is gradually piecing together is totally worth the effort.

Леся Українка

Василь Симоненко

Десь вітер грає на віолончелі,
Морозні пальці приклада до скла,
І ти одна в зажуреній оселі
Замріяно схилилась до стола.

Мов раб німий на араратській скелі
Карбує написи про подвиги царя,
Ти на папері почуттів моря
Переливаєш в строфи невеселі.

Ти - хвора дівчина - серед глухої ночі
Врізаєш в вічність огненні, пророчі
Слова з прийдешніх сонячних віків,

Щоб ті слова хитали чорні трони,
Щоб їх несли з собою легіони
Нових, непереможних Спартаків.

Lesya Ukrainka

Vasyl Symonenko

Somewhere the wind plays the cello, 
Frosty fingers attach to the glass,
And you, alone in a sorrowful village, 
Dreamily lean toward the table. 

Like a silent slave on the rocks of Ararat
Inscribes the feats of the King, 
You onto paper - feelings of the sea 
Pour forth into unhappy stanzas. 

You - sickly girl - in deaf night
Carve into eternity fiery, prophetic
Words from coming, sunny ages

So that these words shake black thrones
So that they bring with them legions
Of new, invincible Spartans. 

A note on the translation - I struggled a bit with this one, and there are certain words or phrases that I am not 100% confident about. However, I still feel it is accurate enough to publish here. Insight welcome if you can help me improve this translation.  

Since the poem mentions Lesya working at her table in the dark of night, I figured I'd do the same. The candlelight effect doesn't look as nice as I'd hoped (it's kind of scary, even) but perhaps this unglamorous imperfection suits the poem.

I've found no other readings or videos to share with you for this one, unfortunately, but that makes me glad I'm sharing this poem here!




The contents of this blog reflect my views and experiences only and are not indicative of the views of the Peace Corps or the governments of the US or Ukraine. 

30 Days of Ukrainian Poetry - Day 7 - "With your eyes you said to me: 'I love you...'"

August 7th has historically been an auspicious day for me (check out the launch of my Road Trip Diaries to learn why), but today has not felt that way. I've been down, irritable, pensive. Feeling stuck. It was tough to get to the Poetry Challenge today, but thanks to my language tutor I found myself with a rather pensive poem. After a couple glasses of red wine, and paired with an evening cup of tea, this little poem fit the bill for what I could handle today.

It was with Lina Kostenko that I started this 30-day endeavor, and it is to her work I return at the end of the first week. Here's a poem about missed opportunities, and life just carrying on as it does after you've missed them. 

Очима ти сказав мені: люблю...

Ліна Костенко

Очима ти сказав мені: люблю.
Душа складала свій тяжкий екзамен.
Мов тихий дзвін гірського кришталю,
несказане лишилось несказанним.

Життя ішло, минуло той перон,
гукала тиша рупором вокзальним.
Багато слів написано пером.
Несказане лишилось несказанним.

Світали ночі, вечоріли дні.
Не раз хитнула доля терезами.
Слова, як сонце сходили в мені.
Несказане лишилось несказанним.

With your eyes you said to me: I love you...

Lina Kostenko 

With your eyes you said to me: I love you.
The soul has passed its difficult test.
Like a quiet bell of mountain crystal, 
The unsaid remained unsaid. 

Life carried on, passed by the platform,
While from the stations' speakers silence rang.  
The quill has written many words.
The unsaid, unsaid remained. 

Days became evenings, nights dawned.
More than once fate rocked the scales. 
And words rose in me like the Sun.
The unsaid remains unsaid. 

My own translation. I feel like I actually did a decent job this time!

Yes, the cup of tea was necessary. Even with the cup of tea, my recording can't compare to the one below. I don't know who this girl is, but she does a beautiful reading. It's worth a listen even if you don't understand Ukrainian.

So, here's to red wine, cups of tea, and some pensive pondering of things that've passed us by. At least Day 7 didn't pass without a poem.



This blog reflects my personal views and experiences only, and is not indicative of the views of Peace Corps or of the US or Ukrainian governments.