Ruta Viter poetic tribute cycle

The streets of Lviv -
So empty, luxurious, vain,
Grandiose, full of shining grains of inspiration -
Your presence still lingers in the air
Floating on waves of despair
In long hours
Of cultural isolation.

*   *    *

No, unluckily I didn't know you in person -
Neither you, nor some of the rarest books you've been reahearsing with
Reading aloud and admiring
The beauty of sounds
So solemn and dramatic.

Your pen-name, paired with the ability to gain
Much more than the others
From the mind clearing up
The affectual sphere,
Would persevere like the chapel bells
Ringing and calling for people to pray.

What did you expect to have accomplished one day?
I see a picture, black and white,
With contrasts magnificently set aside,
People might have been admiring and admitting
The grace of your movements
And gradual improvement of your writing.

I bet you've been building bridges instead of walls.

Can you imagine the depth of discrimination
When you live in the city centre
And you're not given books
Because you come from the South of the country?

I'm almost sure you could confront all the stereotypes,
Packing them into a travel bag,
Like a pack of wolves.

The darkness has you now,
However words and colours keep resolving the tension
In the recipients' minds.

Oh, how happy you were in your paradise on Earth,
In your brave and restless youth!

Your mission in the theatre of life,
Even years and decades before your birth,
Was to keep people and ideas united
And to eventually transcend
The unnecessary differences
Between the citizens of the same country.

On newspaper pages, on silver screen,
Literally everywhere,
A bunch of your stage images,
A string of identities
Would be exposed.

Let your presence stay in the noosphere
And be glorified!

More than enigmatic stories
Our nation needs unity -

Keep living
In wonderful gardens
Of our memories!