OLEKSANDR BOHACHOUK, “NATIVE WORD”
All languages are splendid in the world.
Each one has harmony and fire,
As, in each muscular and sturdy word,
There lives a nation, its own sire.
That’s why I love every tongue’s code!
But, among all, my closest say,
Is that, in which I, first words owned,
In which I read the “Kobza-Player”.
My grandpa and my dad, from cast,
Were forging plowshares for village men,
And, I, from the word-lightening blast,
Will forge my artful poems, then.
… Forget your language in no way,
And love it, preciously, protect,
So simple, colorful and great,
Which, nightingales would not reject.
Translated from Ukrainian into English by Ivan Petryshyn
http://poetyka.uazone.net/default/pages.phtml?place=bogachuk&page=bogachuk005
All languages are splendid in the world.
Each one has harmony and fire,
As, in each muscular and sturdy word,
There lives a nation, its own sire.
That’s why I love every tongue’s code!
But, among all, my closest say,
Is that, in which I, first words owned,
In which I read the “Kobza-Player”.
My grandpa and my dad, from cast,
Were forging plowshares for village men,
And, I, from the word-lightening blast,
Will forge my artful poems, then.
… Forget your language in no way,
And love it, preciously, protect,
So simple, colorful and great,
Which, nightingales would not reject.
Translated from Ukrainian into English by Ivan Petryshyn
http://poetyka.uazone.net/default/pages.phtml?place=bogachuk&page=bogachuk005
