“Untitled [Maybe you know]” and “Untitled [I wave at you–]” by Lyudmyla Diadchenko, trans. from the Ukrainian by Padma Thornlyre

[untitled]

Maybe you know I know you know you are me.
Maybe I know you know I am lost.
Snow rhymes with sky and hunches its shoulders.
The cold builds walls like Qin Shi Huang. 
Our evenings reenact Matisse’s dances,
A mediocre melody that should break an octave higher.
Maybe you know I know with whom you are cheating.
And after Matisse’s dances, mildly entertaining,
We dance some more—our bodies woven together.
Let the artist finish when the moment arrives.
Maybe you know I know what I was to you.
Maybe you know who you want to be.



[Без назви]

мабуть я знаю що знаєш – що пропадаю 
сніг заримовує небо і плечі гне 
холод обмурував як стіни китаю 
танками матіса розігруються вечори 
мелодія так собі: взяти б вище зламати октаву 
мабуть ти знаєш що знаю з ким ти душею кривив 
й після танків матіса трохи кого побавив 
ну потанцюймо ще – сплівши свої тіла 
хай домалює художник раз тут оказія ціла 
мабуть ти знаєш що знаю ким я тобі була 
мабуть ти знаєш ким би хотіла… 

				

		
[untitled]

I wave at you—my greetings fly,
A driven, disheveled beast.
A flat plane with numerous points. A table,
A minimum of two spoons. Believe me.
Our table also exists in your parlour?
Parallel with mine, but separate: milk and jug,
Just like our home—just like our table—unreal.
You have read Euclid? Read him. He is Greek,
And he addressed this theme. Even if history lies,
Geometry does not. So, everything is lost.
It is law, it is truth, it is easier,
Should become
Easier.
Did this really happen?


[Без назви]

помахаю тобі – мій привіт долетить 
закуйовдженим загнаним звіром 
площина – кількість точок. столи – 
ложки мінімум дві. повіриш 
в існування нашого столу? твоя вітальня 
паралельна моїй – окремо: молоко і глек 
тож наш дім – як і зрештою стіл – нереальний 
ти евкліда читав? почитай. він був грек 
і цю тему закрив. хоч історія бреше 
геометрія – ні. тож усе пропало 
це закони це правда від цього легше 
має стати 
легше.
правда стало?

Lyudmyla Diadchenko

The Ukrainian poet, Lyudmyla Diadchenko, currently living in Sweden, is the former Vice President of the Ukrainian Writer’s Association, and has published three books in her native tongue, as well as books translated into English, Greek, Italian, Romanian and Georgian.

Padma Thornlyre

Padma Thornlyre, a Coloradan who now lives in northern New Mexico, has published eleven books of original poetry, and one book of translations—Lyudmyla Diadchenko’s Magnetic Storms (No Reply Press).

Translator’s Note:

Suspecting Ukrainian ancestry on my mother’s side, I jumped down the rabbit-hole of Ukrainian literature in the 1990s, beginning with Ukraine’s literary heroes: Ukraïnka, Shevchenko and Franko. The six-volume Women’s Voices in Ukrainian Literatureintroduced me to short stories spanning the century between 1850-1950 and I especially enjoyed Olha Kobylians’ka, whose greatest novels, most notably Earth (or Land) have never appeared in English. The anthology From Three Worlds introduced contemporary voices like Valery Shevchuk and Oleh Lysheha. I read Vasyl Stus, a metaphor for Ukraine itself—a poet who perished in a Soviet gulag for championing Ukrainian identity. Volodymyr Rafeyenko’s surrealist Mondegreen and Mstyslav Chernov’s war epic, The Dreamtime, both held me rapt. Facebook, through its mysterious algorithms (presumably because I’m “friends” with other poets) presented Lyudmyla Diadchenko standing before a blue door in Tunisia. Splendidly tall, she recalled the poet, H.D. (Hilda Doolittle), whose writing I’ve championed since college. I sought Diadchenko’s poetry online, discovering only a handful of translations, so I offered my help, trusting to instincts cultivated by writing poetry for more than 40 years to compensate for not knowing Ukrainian. I translate each word using multiple online dictionaries and make adjustments to account for the inevitable differences in syntax. Once I’ve completed a first draft, Diadchenko herself offers corrections and cultural context. Some translations come quickly, while others require multiple drafts. I submit the translations for publication only when we’ve both agreed that they are ready.