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Syndic Literary Journal


Autumn Reflections

Written by Dmytro Chystiak  

Translated from the Ukrainian by Hilary Sheers

Narrated by Annie Hayden





You walk to the graves –

A garden blossoms with voices,

But the golden

Cannot be sensed, cannot be heard by the numb.

There will be a gravestone and a cross near the year of communion,

And all – just a way to the cold stack of leaves.


You will walk through the graves,

Everywhere the emptiness of clumsiness and fears,

Nothing more but again and again a look in the eyes

This – like a fresco from other times,

This – like a flood:

Sunlit people

Walking on water,




You let the sun go westwards,

Soon – eagle owls –like suns,

Soon – voices – like snowflakes,

But the boundary of your being still endures …

Accept this pure echo of paradises

Lighting a passing moment –

So rays will fall, when there is depth.



A path will break away

In the thicket of grape vines,

And you will step into a golden-faceted shoot

In the autumn sun of good news –

To look into your Dnieper eyes,

Winding blue winds round the heart,

As long as blood does not sweeten everyone…


Compiled/Published by LeRoy Chatfield
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