Halyna Kruk (UA-EN) Stus (a tribute to a poet)
Make your death dance
On your enemies' graves,
And let its body be guilty
That neither can be loved,
Nor taken.
To a tongue's castagnetas
That are only heard by it,
A faithful one,
Let her dance,
Let the others see.
Pawn your death
Like a non-fungible coin
In the history's pawnshop.
It might have been too cheap in the past
But in about thirty years
It will cost as much as hundreds of thousands,
So those who made it part of their collection
As a wonder forged,
A peculiar artifact.
As a stone discarded, and now a cornerstone,
On which the quotations
Torn out of the body,
Would be cut on.
'The world is so quiet and candid,
So underlived,
Everything would be possible in such a verse,
Finished by someone who could
After your death
Put it into a book of life
As a bookmark
On a page someone stumbles upon
And someone sobs to,
And someone else finds something
That forms them.
Make your death speak
Cover it with words like an abyss
So that the others won't fall.
