Delmarva Today 3-11-22
Harold Wilson’s guest is Dr. Lee Slater, Master Lecturer of World Cultural Studies and French, and Director of the World Cultural Studies Program at Old Dominion University. They discuss the beauty, language, and impact of contemporary Ukrainian poetry.
On February 24 of this year Russia began its illegal invasion of Ukraine with missile fire and the introduction of ground troops. It’s hard to remember that this invasion by Russian ground and air forces, as of Friday, March 11, is only sixteen days old. In its campaign of terror, however, it has already killed hundreds of civilians and displaced more than two million Ukrainians. Seeking safe refuge in neighboring NATO states, these families, mostly women, children, and the elderly are jamming railroad stations in an effort to escape the horror of Putin’s madness. The war is so brutal and savage, maternity hospitals bombed, neighborhoods decimated, civilians targeted that it’s hard to remember that it is an escalation of the Russo-Ukrainian War with separatists that began in 2014. These eight years, however, have given birth to a celebrated group of Ukrainian “poets of witness” that is flourishing today. Polina Barskova, in her Afterword for the anthology Words for War says, “During these years, poetry writing in Ukraine acquired a new vitality, diversity, and strong national resonance—especially when it comes to political poetry.” She argues that, “Ukrainian literary identity is being shaped today within the realm of poetical expression.”
Poet Halyna Kruk stands in that tradition. She is a poet, writer of fiction and a scholar of Ukrainian medieval literature. She has authored four books of poetry and collected some of Ukraine’s top awards for young poets. Kruk teaches literature at the University of Lviv. Here is her poem,
someone stands between you and death. . .
someone stands between you and death — but
who knows how much more my heart can stand —
where you are, it’s so important
someone prays for you
even with their own words
even if they don’t clasp their hands and kneel
plucking the stems off strawberries from the garden
I recall how I scolded you when you were small
for squashing the berries before they ripened
my heart whispers: Death, he hasn’t ripened yet
he’s still green, nothing in his life has been
sweeter than unwashed strawberries
I beg you: oh God, don’t place him at the front,
please don’t rain rockets down on him, oh God,
I don’t even know what a rocket looks like,
my son, I can’t picture the war even to myself
These are courageous poets of witness, listen in as Lee reads from their work and discusses their relevance.