POEMS
By Hanna Sieviaryniec
Translation: Hanna Komar, John Farndon
***
A car departs, travelling from Amstsislau to Brest.
It hurtles past fields and forest blindly,
And as it speeds on, someone’s taken to Akrestsina,
Someone’s transferred to a colony, or joins a baptism ceremony,
Someone’s treated to breakfast, or cries as someone’s laid to rest,
Someone’s forced on an ALV, or taken in arrest,
Someone’s wished happy birthday, or buys food at the grocery,
Or wanders the streets, or storms the borders,
Believes their neighbours, or shops their neighbours quietly,
And the car keeps going.
On this mountain, in this crazy, crazy wind
You’re stunned by all that’s outside and in,
Your veins like chill rivers in the winter freeze,
Loved ones falling around you, felled like trees,
Crumbling into ashes, flying into the sky and away,
As if they never existed, as if there’s been nothing always,
But the car is heading to Brest from Amstsislau,
It left before things became the way they are now,
Everything’s already fallen, but it’s still on track,
Nice gifts for the loved ones in the back,
And as if there was nothing going on –
The car is going on, life goes on.
10.11.21
***
Some said: I hear whispers of its thundercrack.
Others narrowed their eyes skeptically.
We were afraid: what if ‘37 comes back.
But it was with us already.
It was with us on trams or going to the movies.
It sat with us on park benches, drinking beer or cola casually.
Sometimes it was against us, at others on our team –
When we took a child to school on 1st September especially.
It was like us. It was our comrade and brother.
It had no need to break out of the penitentiary.
It’s here with us, with no wish to go back to another
Time. No, it’s simply changed its name to ‘20.
It’s changed its name like you change goods for money.
And ‘37 wasn’t first. It was with us from the outset.
And so it will be, until we know the face of our enemy
Like we know our own from the bathroom mirror yet.
Look at yourself. You kept silent about evil yesterday.
You surrendered to your bosses. You got scared. Stayed home, didn’t you?
Your eyes look indifferent. Hands back away.
So be careful. ’37 – it’s here inside you.
15.08.20
***
We, those who believe good will conquer evil eventually,
We, those who believe that in general evil ebbs away,
Petrified, up to our necks in shit, giving our fates to be crushed freely
We’ve been chosen to witness how long evil takes to die away.
10.11.21
***
I will grow up. I will grow up definitely
From this time of unbearable lessons.
I’ll draw conclusions, get understanding certainly
And chuck out all the portents and omens.
I will grow up and become an old woman, hard as nails,
Who smokes non-stop and says eff off to the nosy…
Keeps quiet mostly, but can tell it straight
To any loudmouth to barge into my yard, see?
I’ll grow up. I won’t believe even in pills,
In shared guilt or collective responsibility.
I’ll love only my grandkids
and say: sweeties,
Do what you will
Just make sure there is no more war, please.
21.05.22
***
Though at the start you weren’t given fangs nor claws
You still have much choice for life’s fight.
You can run like a hare, maybe make wolves’ feet sore
Or glisten like a fish in the moonlight,
Or curl up while trouble passes. From school,
That’s why you’ve grown your own thorns for the fight
So no one ever dares push you in the pool
where you’ll float up soft, thin and light.
You can scream. You can bark. Maybe a little rasp.
Or wag your tail, whine, snarl or moan,
Dig a hole, fain death, or hide under cars,
Or just sprint when you’re close to home.
Now here’s for the wise: just draw in your head
And arms, legs, and tail into your shell.
And you’ll see only velvety grass up ahead
Pink petals and sunny wit very well.
You can go on this way for a century or three
on the banks of a quiet stream where it’s wet.
And you will cause no trouble to anybody.
And isn’t that the goal – not to get anyone upset.
22.06.22