Немилосердно нас об вічність б’ють:
They beat our snow-covered heads against
eternity, relentlessly, without mercy.
And we still fail to settle a score with
our era and to find the path of truth.
Our grief’s ice-shards grind, bash and
and batter us. The shards of our pain
keep calling us to battle. But all we do is
swim behind ourselves like our own cadavers.
Our fury’s taking our breath away.
You, captive of eternity, go throw yourself
against the wall to win your freedom.
The world’s in agony, but defiant peoples
still shake the lampshade of the sky.
The stinging thorns of their screams
grow to the stars, into the cosmic blackness.
Vasyl Stus.
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