I was reading today, particularly, about Lesya Ukrainka, the pen name of Larysa Petrivna Kosach-Kvitka. A fierce feminist poet, raised by a fierce feminist poet mother and aunt, her writing subverted the patriarchy, while also addressing the deep love of her country, and the need for Ukrainian freedom—in the 1890s-1910s.
The choice of her pen name is a defiant and radical act in and of itself: the name literally translated is ‘Ukrainian Woman’. At the time, Imperial Russia considered Ukrainian nationalism and language subversive and treasonous.
Urkainka died when she was 42. Her funeral took place in Kyiv, under the supervision of the police, who feared it would become a focus for a nationalist rally. Speeches were banned, notes and words on funeral wreaths were reviewed. Still, hundreds gathered to pay their respects. Six women—fellow feminists, activists, writers, friends—carried the coffin on their shoulders, while the crowd stayed at her gravesite all day in protest of the ban on speech.
In honor of her work for education, peace, gender equality, European integration, and Ukrainian freedom—a poem of fire from Ukrainka:
Why are my words not like steel brightly flashing
Out in the field where two armies are clashing ?
Why not a sabre whose pitiless blows
Cut off the heads of our bitterest foes?
You dagger-words, that I tempered and tested,
Gladly I'll draw from my breast where you rested,
But it is my heart to the purpose applying,
I'll shape a weapon with sparks from it flying,
Then I shall hang it up high on the wall
Others to gratify, me to appall.
My only weapon, dear words that I cherish,
We must ensure that not both of us perish !
Wielded by brothers we do not yet know,
You may do better in routing the foe.
My blades shall ever the fetters of iron,
Echo aloud in the forts of all tyrants.
Other blades also shall join it to bring
New days when speeches of free men will ring.
Mighty avengers my sword shall inherit,
With it they'll race to do battle with merit.
Sword, better service go render the brave
Than to my feeble hands you ever gave!
Lesya Ukrainka (1871 - 1913)
--translated by Peter Tempest
com·mon·place book| ˈkämənˌplās ˌbo͝ok | noun: a book into which notable extracts from other works are copied for personal use.
Thanks for writing about this brave Ukrainian woman. Her bold legacy is being fulfilled by her Ukranian daughters today. P.S. I've been "commonplacing" for years and never knew there was a name for it.
Thank you for shining light on the fierce feminine spirit from the motherland of Ukraine specially in these tough times. I hope people to derive a sense of hope through Ukrainka's work in this time of darkness.
Thanks for writing about this brave Ukrainian woman. Her bold legacy is being fulfilled by her Ukranian daughters today. P.S. I've been "commonplacing" for years and never knew there was a name for it.
Thank you for shining light on the fierce feminine spirit from the motherland of Ukraine specially in these tough times. I hope people to derive a sense of hope through Ukrainka's work in this time of darkness.
Thank you for this! So needed and inspiring - I forwarded on to a number of friends!
Thank you for this history. I did not know if this poet. My heart is sad for Ukraine.