Poem
Oksana Zabuzhko
Prypiat – Still Life
It could be dawn.The light, crumpled like sheets.
The ashtray full.
A shadow multiplies on four walls.
The room is empty.
No witnesses.
But someone was here.
A moment ago twin tears shimmered
On polished wood
(Did a couple live here?)
In the armchair a suit, recently filled by a body,
Has collapsed into a bolt of fabric.
Come in, look around. No one’s here,
Just the breathing air, crushed
As though by a tank.
A half-finished sweater remembers someone’s fingers.
A book lies open, marked by a fingernail.
(How amazing, this silence beyond the boundary!)
On the polished wood, two stains.
On the floor by the armchair an apple,
Bitten but not brown.
© Translation: 1996, Lisa Sapinkopf
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: Wellspring Ltd., Toronto, 1996
Prypiat is an abandoned town in the evacuated area around Chernobyl.
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: Wellspring Ltd., Toronto, 1996
PRYPIAT - STILL LIFE
© 1985,
From: Novyj Zakon Arkhimeda. Vybrani Virshi 1980-1998
Publisher: Acta, Kharkiv
From: Novyj Zakon Arkhimeda. Vybrani Virshi 1980-1998
Publisher: Acta, Kharkiv
Poems
Poems of Oksana Zabuzhko
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Prypiat – Still Life
It could be dawn.The light, crumpled like sheets.
The ashtray full.
A shadow multiplies on four walls.
The room is empty.
No witnesses.
But someone was here.
A moment ago twin tears shimmered
On polished wood
(Did a couple live here?)
In the armchair a suit, recently filled by a body,
Has collapsed into a bolt of fabric.
Come in, look around. No one’s here,
Just the breathing air, crushed
As though by a tank.
A half-finished sweater remembers someone’s fingers.
A book lies open, marked by a fingernail.
(How amazing, this silence beyond the boundary!)
On the polished wood, two stains.
On the floor by the armchair an apple,
Bitten but not brown.
© 1996, Lisa Sapinkopf
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: 1996, Wellspring Ltd., Toronto
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: 1996, Wellspring Ltd., Toronto
Prypiat – Still Life
It could be dawn.The light, crumpled like sheets.
The ashtray full.
A shadow multiplies on four walls.
The room is empty.
No witnesses.
But someone was here.
A moment ago twin tears shimmered
On polished wood
(Did a couple live here?)
In the armchair a suit, recently filled by a body,
Has collapsed into a bolt of fabric.
Come in, look around. No one’s here,
Just the breathing air, crushed
As though by a tank.
A half-finished sweater remembers someone’s fingers.
A book lies open, marked by a fingernail.
(How amazing, this silence beyond the boundary!)
On the polished wood, two stains.
On the floor by the armchair an apple,
Bitten but not brown.
© 1996, Lisa Sapinkopf
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: 1996, Wellspring Ltd., Toronto
From: A Kingdom of Fallen Statues
Publisher: 1996, Wellspring Ltd., Toronto
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