I have a philological pedagogical degree. I've been writing since childhood and consider this talent a hereditary gift from my great-grandfather.
But for a long time I did not take my work beyond notes.
Two years ago, I began publishing poems on my own Facebook and Instagram pages, and later on the pages of the Temple of Poetry and Poems and Poetry in Ukrainian communities.
I am the author of the book "Faceless Pronouns. Poems for the Road".
I love the sun, daisies, and traveling.
Reeds
By spring, the thick reeds by the river had dried up.
In the spring they became sad and really the same.
They all pretended to be important, they kept someone's secrets,
And above them, spring was already whitening the dreamy cherries.
And behind them, the tired sun rolled to rest,
It's been bathing its feet in Irsha: it's still cold, but the sun is hot.
Somewhere far away in the Carpathians, trembitas were singing wistfully,7
But the dry reeds were silent and asleep as if...
Why do they need the sun, trembitas, the Carpathians, and cherries?
Why do they need the river, and people, and forest, and this sky?
When something that was is called the word "former,"
You don't need anything but yourself and the silence, of course.
And by summer, stalks of green will reach for the sky,
And the dry reeds will disappear, although they will be present.
New roles at the theatre, and new actors on the stage...
That's how the past disappears and the future comes.
© Poems by Svitlana Yankova
© Translated into English by Maryna Tchianova, 2025
