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Poetry is freedom of spirit, flight, imagination. There are always sparks of the Divine in good poetry. When you read real poetry, you not only feel it, but also see it – in fact, you are in the cinema, where there is only one spectator, and this spectator is you, the reader!
Alexander Korotko
Video poetry
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“ The last city, of the last star…”
***
The last city,
of the last star.
Holidays of happiness.
Years of doubt,
years of silence.
You at the read night
are begging
for salvation,
like for alms,
with trembling eyelids
of wounded streets,
following the trail
of mysterious truths
of Motherland voices –
horseshoes of hope,
living on the slopes
of cold tears’
frantic pity.
Translated by Natalia Ogienko.
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Very occasionally a unique new voice in poetry rises above the clamouring crowd to command attention. Informed by a very different culture, language and environment from his Anglophone audience, Korotko’s short, sharp observations of life around him are far from the easiest to translate...
Hillary Shears, translator and poet. December 2019, London