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Lіudmyla Diadchenko is an award-winning Poet, Vice President of Ukrainian Writers Association, Ukrainian literary rating “The Book of the Year” Expert, and a member of the World Nations Writers’ Union (Kazakhstan). She is a Doctor of philosophy (Theory of literature). Her Scientific interests include mythopoetic, hermeneutics and spatial studios. She is the author of poetry collections: Fee For Access (2011) and The Hen for Turkish Man (2017). 

Her poems have appeared in Literature magazines and journals – “Porter Gulch Review 2020” (USA), “Shahitto” (India, 2019), “Armagan” (Bosnia, 2020), Knjizevno pero (Crotia, 2019), “Artkaspi” (Azerbaijan, 2018), «Publishers Weekly» (United Arab Emirates, 2018); “Modernity”, “SHO”, “Courier Krivbas”, “Dyvoslovo”, and “Ukrainian literary newspaper”. Lіudmyla has been published in Anthologies including – “NEP: Night of erotic poetry” (2011), almanac of International Istanbul Poetry and Literature Festival (2017), of 18th International Sapanca Poetry Evenings (2018), Terra Poetica (Minsk, 2016), The Language of the Sky (Tbilisi, 2016), among other almanacs and online publications.

She has won various accolades including Oles Gonchar International Ukrainian-German Prize (2012) and “Poetry of pomegranate tints” winner (2018, Azerbaijan Diaspora Association).  Lіudmyla has participated in the 10th International Istanbul Poetry and Literature Festival (Turkey, 2017), the18th International Sapanca Poetry Evenings (Turkey, 2018), the 11th International Istanbul Poetry and Literature Festival (Turkey, 2019), the 6th International poetry festival in Sidi bou Said (Tunisia, 2019), International Fikret Demirağ Poetry Festival (Nicosia-Cyprus, 2019), and the 30th Medellin International poetry festival (Colombia, 2020).

Her poems have been translated into English, Spanish, Arabic, Georgian, Belarusian, Croatian, Bosnian, Russian, Azerbaijani and Turkish languages.

Lіudmyla lives and works in Kyiv.

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This island with wild goats and two donkeys

Reveals its deity, a flowering olive grove.

But we need not only treasures: we want them buried,

And we want old, weathered maps to guide our search!

When Autumn arrives to recline upon her altar, there will be

Offerings of lamb and grapes — accept but do not taste them.

This is my command to you — regard it as a Gibraltar

Blocking Africa from joining Europe.

As water scrubs away at the hull of your boat,

Set sail with your cache — it is your freedom.

you did not meet whom you had sought,

But whom you met, you will never find again.

(original translation into English by Dmitrou Teplouhov.

Rendered into American English by Padma J. Thornlyre)

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Here, in latitudes lying north of you,

The golden fall packs the horizon

Like a tin stowing sprats; we stay up late

(And judging the stretch of our legs, we ourselves have longitude).

I read the newspaper for every Zodiac sign,

Finding mostly no difference on weekdays.

Easier to ask the stars themselves; instantly, their laughter

Fills this room and those of my nearby neighbors.

And how is my desert? Has the sand dried out at last? —

Clawing into the ground should not be rocket-science.

Here, having jammed my satellite link-ups to you,

Pigeons wing into the sky like prayers offered to God.

(Original translation into English by Dmitrou Teplouhov.

 Rendered into American English by Padma J. Thornlyre)

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through ukrainian weeds and right to the very sanskrit

walking and gathering alien alphabets with your ears

the day before yesterday takes to the road to converse

the day after tomorrow calls you from round the evening

here the sun sinks earlier on the horns of the cows

and the winds of no names flock to the watering places

this sarcasm of fate that has led me here by the hand

just won’t disappear and so there are two of us now

dressing a weary day in a bright-colored sari

bidding a hasty farewell just in time for a new one

your language won’t tell neither where nor how long you go

perhaps you’ll be lucky to settle this matter with sanskrit

(Translation into English by Viacheslav Stelmakh)