Poem
Myroslav Laiuk
SOW-THISTLE!
divest me of my namesow-thistle
I want to become you
I want to grab foxes and roe deer by their legs
and not to scare them away
to tell the feathered listeners
the dreams seen by my roots
to hide a hoary snake in my bosom
and to warm her children
I want to know
where the herds of subterranean beetles pasture
where the moths with red bellies
and gray wings disappear to
how a locust’s heart beats
and how a flute goes through a marten
I want to hand-feed bears and crows
I want to become myself
sow-thistle
© Translation: 2014, Alan Zhukovski
осоте!
осоте!
позбав мене імені осотея хочу стати тобою
я хочу хапати лисиць і козуль за лапи
і не полохати їх
розповідати птахам
сни мого коріння
ховати у пазусі сиву змію
і вигрівати її дітей
я хочу знати
де пасуться стада підземних жуків
куди зникають нетлі
з червоними животами і сірими крильми
як б'ється серце саранчі
і як проходить флейта крізь куницю
я хочу годувати з рук ведмедів і ворон
я хочу стати собою
осоте
© 2013, Myroslav Laiuk
From: Sow-Thistle!
Publisher: Smoloskyp, Kyiv
From: Sow-Thistle!
Publisher: Smoloskyp, Kyiv
Poems
Poems of Myroslav Laiuk
Close
SOW-THISTLE!
divest me of my namesow-thistle
I want to become you
I want to grab foxes and roe deer by their legs
and not to scare them away
to tell the feathered listeners
the dreams seen by my roots
to hide a hoary snake in my bosom
and to warm her children
I want to know
where the herds of subterranean beetles pasture
where the moths with red bellies
and gray wings disappear to
how a locust’s heart beats
and how a flute goes through a marten
I want to hand-feed bears and crows
I want to become myself
sow-thistle
© 2014, Alan Zhukovski
From: Sow-Thistle!
From: Sow-Thistle!
SOW-THISTLE!
divest me of my namesow-thistle
I want to become you
I want to grab foxes and roe deer by their legs
and not to scare them away
to tell the feathered listeners
the dreams seen by my roots
to hide a hoary snake in my bosom
and to warm her children
I want to know
where the herds of subterranean beetles pasture
where the moths with red bellies
and gray wings disappear to
how a locust’s heart beats
and how a flute goes through a marten
I want to hand-feed bears and crows
I want to become myself
sow-thistle
© 2014, Alan Zhukovski
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère