Monday Night Poetry Club

The current state of affairs (both in the world and in my head… I hate Mondays) calls for a particular excerpt from “Oh, the Places You’ll Go!” I got the book as a high school graduation present from a lovely family that I have since lost touch with. I used to read this out loud to myself during freshman year at Duke, arguably one of the hardest times in my life (so far).

… But on you will go
though the weather be foul.
On you will go
though your enemies prowl.
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl.
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

– Dr. Seuss.

The idea that you have to stay true to yourself has never been stated better. There. I feel much better now.

“The End of the Affair”

Is a personal essay of mine that has just been published on the Common Ties Story Blog.

The essay is a wee bit whiny (like most of my stuff). Nevertheless, I am proud of having been selected, and am honestly honoured to be included in such a fun, diverse group of writers, both aspiring and established. I was charmed by First Shooting Star (and reminded of all the nights my father and I spent looking at meteor showers and making out familiar constellation shapes from the jumble of stars up above), and then there’s the childhood humiliation of Spin the Bottle, and… Well, see for yourself. And bring me my chapstick while you’re at it, ’cause my lips hurt real bad (har har).

Please check out this wonderful project in full.

Thank you, Elizabeth and James.

Monday Night Poetry Club

This is another one of my own translations. It’s about Kiev, my home. This poem was originally published in a collection entitled “White Flock,” in 1917. The poem itself appears to have been written in 1914. The statue of Vladimir the Christener still stands over the River Dnipro, just like it did when Akhmatova described it.

The ancient city as though dead,
And my arrival here feels odd.
And Vladimir over his river
Has raised a pitch-dark cross.

Standing darkly in the gardens –
The noisy linden-trees and elms,
As starlight brings upward to God
Its needled gems.

My ruinous, splendid journey
I will end here at this time.
But all I have is you, my twin,
And this love of mine.

– Anna Akhmatova, 1914.

Translated by Natalia Antonova, 2006.