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Moon shine (poem)
Moon shine in the night
Weave a thread of delight
On the tapestry of feelings in my heart.
Your white beam everywhere
Filters through the still night air
A scene that from my mind will not depart.
Moon shine in night clouds clad
I can see that you are sad
Because of all the bad things we are doing.
From up there you can see
With much more clarity than me
How we persist to bring this earth to ruin.
Moon shine in still night air
Stare hopelessly at world affairs
The powers that be all thrive on opposition.
Many live in slavery
And many die in poverty
I pray the future holds a better vision.
Stepan Pasicznyk, "Ludwig" 1984
Below, the above poem in Ukrainian
̳ñÿöü ñâ³òèü ó íãî÷³
Ïëåñòèòü íèòêîì ðàäîù³
Íà ¥îáëåí â³ä÷óòòÿ ó ìîº öåðöå.
Á³ëå ñÿÿíÿ òâîº
Ñâ³òèòü íà ëèöå ìîº
ß ïðî öå íå ìîæó çàáóâàòè
̳ÿöü õìàðàìè âêðèâàòèé
Òè º çîâñ³ì áåçäîãàííèé
Ëþäñüê³é ð³ä íàø ùå íå ðîçó쳺
Ùî ìè âñ³ º Áîæ³ ä³òè
À ìè õî÷åìî òåðï³òè
Æèòè â çãîä³ ëþäñüê³é ð³ä íå â쳺
̳ÿñöü ñâ³òèòü ö íî÷³
Ì𳿠ìî¿ çîëîò³
Ðàïòîì ïî÷èíàþòü ïðîìèíàòè
Âæå ïðèéøëà íîâà ïîðà
À íà䳿 ùå íåìà
³òåð ïî÷èíຠçàâèâàòè.
Åâðîïà (Evropa words for The Ukrainians )
Ìè Ìóçèêàíòè ¿äåìî ç Êèºâà
Ó Äàëåê³é Êðàé
Ùîáè çàãðàòè òàé ìàíäðóâàòè
Öå º íàø çâè÷àé
Õìàðè ó Ëîíäîí³
Ñîíöå Â Áàðñåëîí³
 Ìþíõåí³ º äîáðå ïèâî ³ Àêîðäåîíè
Êîõàííÿ â Ïàðèæ³
² âèñîê³ Âåæ³
³ä ³äåíñêî¿ Êëàñèêè
Êðàùî¿ íåìà
Ìè ùå ïî¿äåìî äàëüøå
Ìè ùå íå çíàºìî
Ùî íàñ äî÷åêàº
Ùî ïîáà÷åìî
Åâðîïà Åâðîïà
Òè íå ìîëîäà
Åâðîïà Åâðîïà
Âæå íîâà ïîðà
²ñòîð³ÿ â Àòåíàõ
² òàêîæ ó Ðèì³
Ùîêîëàäà Â Áðóñåë³
À ùî º â Àìñòåðäàì³?
¥ííåñ ó Äóáë³í³
Êëþáè ó Áåðë³í³
Òàì íå ìîæíà ñïàòè àæ äî ñàìîãî äíÿ
Ìè ùå ïî¿äåìî äàëüøå
Ìè ùå íå çíàºìî
Ùî íàñ äî÷åêàº
Ùî ïîáà÷åìî
Stepan Pasicznyk, words for Evropa, Kultura, The Ukrainians
Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà (Ukrayinamerica words for The Ukrainians)
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
Ùîáè ìè êóïèëè ¿õí³ ñè´àðåòè
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
Ùîáè Àíãëîìîâíèõ ñë³â íàñ íàâ÷èòè
Äàé ìåí³ ÌÒÂ Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
ÀÁÑ 123 Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
Ùîá íàâ÷èòè ÿê á³ôáåð´åðè çâàðèòè
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
Ìè êóïèëè ¿õí³ Ãåâ³ ìåòàë ïëèòè
Äàé ìåí³ ÌÒÂ Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
ÀÁÑ 123 Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
³ä³ãðàòè ¿õíþ ìèðîëþáíó ðîëþ
̳æíàðîäíà êîðïîðàö³ÿ ïðè¿õàëà äî íàñ
Ùîáè ïðîäàòè íàì Àìåðèêàíñüêó âîëþ
Äàé ìåí³ ÌÒÂ Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
ÀÁÑ 123 Óêðà¿íàìåðèêà
Stepan Pasicznyk, words for Ukrayinamerica, Kultura, The Ukrainians
Love (poem)
Love is like a snowfall.
For some it's fun as it falls,
Snowmen, sledges, snowballs,
But then it freezes over
And the snow is here to stay.
The surface turns to ice
And the fun fades away.
Love is like a snowfall.
For others it's still falling.
More snowmen , more snowballs,
Tomorrow morning? Never boring!
But for some it's like a snowfall
Only lasting for a day.
Be quick to enjoy it,
For it's melting.
It won't stay.
Tomorrow only mud,
And slush to kick around,
And memories of
The love I've lost
But thought that I had found.
Stepan Pasicznyk,"Ludwig" January 1991.
On the Soviet Collective Farm (poem).
An Epitaph for the Soviet Union.
To Stalin:
Says the mouse to the man as it's trapped in his hand:
"I'm not in your house but you're out on our land.
I fear not your size, and I fear not your might,
And the harder you squeeze me, the harder I'll bite!"
No one invited you onto our farm.
You bully our farmer by twisting his arm.
You burnt down his house and you raped his young wife.
A pig drunk on power has no value for life.
To Brezhnev:
You set up your schools and you taught all your lies,
Set pupil on pupil and made them all spies.
Humanity gone and the system in place,
You boosted your rockets and then conquered space.
To Gorbachev:
But then you saw reason to alter the rules.
These folk you have conquered are stubborn as mules.
You sense something wrong as you whip their bare backs.
They've stopped in their tracks, they're not taking the slack!
So you promise them all that the load will be lighter,
A bully like you cannot cope with a fighter,
For when we bite back you will then understand
That freedom's too big to just crush in your hand!
Stepan "Ludvig" Pasicznyk 1991
The Rat Race
You’re a cog in a clock
And you’re meant to turn
So the system keeps good time.
Don’t try to think
Just smile and blink
And don’t step out of line.
Give polite replies
When they tell you lies
And say they must be true
When your teeth grow thin
You’ll be thrown in the bin
For here’s no more use for you
Remember when they told us< br>
That the future would be ours?
If they’d only known
What we know today
Trippy hippies picking flowers
They told us that the world would change
But this is what I say
Kick your dreams in the head
They’re as good as dead
Because the Rat Race rules the day.
Stepan Pasicznyk,"Ludwig" December 1991.
Miracles
Green Tree Autumn; Summer, Gold
Miracle so I’ve been told
Rising Moon and setting Sun
Miracles for everyone
A Plant that flowers in the spring
Miracles in everything
The crying of a new born child
Makes other miracles seem mild.
I believe in miracles
They are sent to us from above
I believe in miracles
The only one I want is your love.
Miracles in History
Miracles Technology
Just fifty years back far away
Now I can reach you in a day
I believe in miracles
They are sent to us from above
Please give me your miracle
The only one I want is your love
S. Pasicznyk 1990
Walter Duranty’s Muscovite sky
(To the Genocide denying Pulitzer prizewinner journalist)
No one believed
They were sentenced to die
Under a blood red Muscovite sky.
And none understood
When they said they must fight
For their freedom because
It’s a God given it right.
No one could see
Why they were overcome
With emotion because
Of the wrong that was done
Because they all had
Horrible stories to tell
Of the way that their country
Was given to Hell,
Of the way that their country
Was sold to the swine
To whom nothing was sacred
Or seen as divine.
Their hearts were in pain
With their nation abused
As the best of their “friends”
Looked on slightly bemused.
If you think I am mad
Go on, laugh in my face
For I’m losing my faith
In the “great human race”
That thinks
They should have lived out
Some Bolshevik lie
Under a blood red
Muscovite sky.
Stepan “Ludvig” Pasicznyk 1990
“Listen to the old man”
A poem for those who did grow old, the survivors, for whom “age did weary them”.
(Reference to Laurence Binyon's 'For the Fallen' poem where “age shall not weary them”)
Stepan “Ludwig” Pasicznyk. (written 1990)
Listen to the old man
Telling you his story,
The gladness the sadness
The loss and the glory,
For he saw the seasons
And he knew the reasons,
So listen to him
And swallow your pride,
For difference in years
Is no great divide.
Listen to the old man
Recounting the years,
The friends made and lost
But he sheds not his tears.
He was ready to fall
All for one, one for all
So listen to him
And swallow your pride,
For difference in years
Is no great divide.
Listen to the old man
At peace in his heart.
While we all disagree
He is soon to depart
From our midst in this life
Full of trouble and strife
So listen,
Because it’s too late when he dies
For then he’ll have passed
Through the greatest divide.
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