INSTEAD OF SONNETS OR OCTAVES
by Pavlo Tychyna, 1920
dedicated to Hryhorii Savych Skovoroda
Dawn now, but the mist still lingers...
A crease appears in the sky.
-- How sorrow has taken hold of me!
Radiant furrows plow into the clouds.
I hear -- fanfares!
-- How sorrow has taken hold of me...
Those are not fanfares, they're trumpets and guns.
Sleep, do not awake, mother!...
Damn them, a curse on them all who've turned into beasts!
(Instead of sonnets or octaves).