Watch it: read by Kirk Lawrence-Howard
This poem was written in December 2016, just before Christmas, when I was shocked by the news from Aleppo.
Kyiv, as well as other world capitals, was already shining up with festive lights, despite the bleeding East of Ukraine, and Allepo's blocks turned into ash: we, humans, have the only life, let's celebrate it!
Of course, we were thinking about the victims and praying for them, somewhere in the depth of our souls. Of course, we didn't guess that one of the r*ssian bombing pilots participating in the Aleppo offensive, someone major krasnoyartsev one day would bomb our Ukrainian city Chernihiv and kill our civilians. Personally me, I didn't. Although I did feel, something was wrong with our world and our Christmas.
Just can't help to keep these words and these thoughts on repeat.
First, I wanted to post this poem together with one of the pictures from Aleppo in December 2016 but then decided, you can find similar visuals of Ukrainian Kharkiv, Irpin, Bucha, Mariupol etc...
NO ONE DANCES ANYMORE
show me your Christmas from far away
your Christmas trees, your corporate oysters
all this splendor in coffee cups and bar check-ins
I will watch from the top floor
through the warmed heart of a December windowpane
your women in furs driving home
the bags with chocolate and fishtails
through the keyhole in the locked door
into the Kyiv streets where no one dances anymore
where Christmas fairs are slowly going cold
and the spring-like air
cinnamon and cloves, cloves and cinnamon
show me in the news on my FB
the tinsel-decorated malls
just after the ash-wrapped children
the summary of the year the best invention the greatest achievement
show me the holiday-excited world from far away
I will always remember
your smiles under your funny hats
I will always carry from school in a colorful backpack
your heaviest burden
with a crumbled spice cake from St Nicolas
keeping my feet on the salt-covered pavement
Oksana Rozumna (Kutsenko) - founder and curator of the International Ukrainian-African Literature Project.
Translation: Hanna Yanovska, Robert Berold
🇺🇦 🇿🇦 Слава Україні !🌻
Sad but beautifully written.
What comes to mind now amongst all the horrible things going on in your glorious Ukraine is Christmas and the russian hordes can't take this away.
All will be Ukraine.