Ukraine

In 2003 I spent a little time in Poland—I wish I could have spent a lot more time there. I made good friends with a girl named Ania who worked in the hostel I was staying in (well, while I was there—only a few weeks after I left I’m pleased to say she quit. The hostel owner was no prince) and each day after I got back from whatever I’d been doing we talked for quite a long time. One night she told me about how she had had an urge to go east a year or two before. People had warned her when she decided to go to Ukraine—“the people in Ukraine don’t like the Polish,” they said. She decided to go anyway. She loved it—but what interested her, she said, was the Ukrainians she met were so lovely, but had been told not to go to Poland, where they were not liked. I’m not claiming this as universal, but I will always remember Ania telling me this story. Kapuscinski writes of his travels around the former Soviet Socialist Republics in Imperium. Another Pole driven to travel east. It’s a beautiful book.

24 August marks Ukraine’s Independence Day—this is the date in 1991 that Ukraine declared its independence from Russia. There was a referendum on the matter on 1 December the same year, and independence was finalised on 26 December. The name “Ukraine” comes from the Old East Slavic ukraina, which means “borderland.” I love that. It must be tough sharing a border with Russia sometimes. (Look at Georgia today.)

There have been people in Ukraine for over 6000 years—and about 1000 years ago the Kievan Rus’ (remember, Kiev is now the capital) became the most powerful polity in Europe, and Kiev was the most important city of the Rus’, even back then. After the Mongol invasions, though, the area suffered, and fell under foreign power for a long time. And then came the twentieth century, and Russia.

Stalin was not kind to Ukrainians—yes, I realise that’s an understatement. I’m thinking of the 1932-33 famine: some people think of Holodomor as a genocide. While the numbers vary according to who you speak to, all agree that millions died as a result of the famine. I suggest you read more about this tragedy. If you are brave, photographs of victims of Holodomor are wrenching.

Since we’ve been experiencing some Olympic fever lately, you might like to know that in 3 appearances (1996, 2000 and 2004) at the summer Olympics (I’m not including 2008 additions to the tally) the Ukraine has won 69 medals. Good for them.

Today’s poem comes from New European Poets, and is by Oleh Lysheha. Since this is “Song 352,” I hope you feel moved to go look up the preceding 351 songs.


Song 352

When you need to warm yourself,
When you are hungry to share a word,
When you crave a bread crumb,
Don’t go to the tall trees—
You’ll not be understood there, though
Their architecture achieves cosmic perfection,
Transparent smoke winds from their chimneys.
Don’t go near those skyscrapers—
From the one-thousandth floor
They might toss snowy embers on your head.
If you need warmth
Its better to go to the snowbound garden.
In the farthest corner you’ll find
The lonely hut of the horseradish.
Yes, it’s here, the poor hut of a horseradish.
Is there a light on inside? —Yes, he’s always at home.
Knock at the door of a horseradish.
Knock on the door of his hut.
Knock, he will let you in.

—Oleh Lysheha
translated from the Ukrainian by James Bradfield
from New European Poets