22: Ukrainian Ideas in the 21st Century
The Making of Modern Ukraine
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A Stranger Lows My Life and Where's My Body
This is the kind of poetry he wrote. It seems to me that it is not I who live, but another someone lives for me in the world taking my shape. No eyes, nor ears, nor hands, nor feet, nor mouth, estranged in my own body. And a chunk of pain and closing myself suspended in the abyss. You are awaiting another birth for yourself, but death entered into you long ago. That's my translation from, from yesterday,. It's much prettier in Ukrainian. Read it in Ukrainian. Learn Ukrainian.
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