Vasyl Makhno is a Ukrainian poet in New York, not an outsider there any more, but a grateful observer. In his own words, the move to the United States, where he has been living for five years now, happened rather unexpectedly. It doesn’t appear to be the case that he fled from any place or hurried to any particular destination. Perhaps it was this kind of ‘aimless’ emigration that saved Makhno the poet. His New York poetry proves that a Ukrainian poet abroad can not only exist, but also write. And write well at that.
Makhno was born in the town of Chortkiv in the Ternopil region. His life began in a manner completely typical for a Ukrainian poet: interest in literature in secondary school, then study at the pedagogical institute in Ternopil, then graduate school. In 1995, he defended his doctoral dissertation on the topic of ‘The Artistic World of Bohdan-Ihor Antonych’, published as a book in 1999. The love of this Ukrainian poet for Antonych was also a rather typical phenomenon: almost every Ukrainian poet, especially of the younger generation, has acknowledged a debt to him. For that reason, Antonych and the Modernist tradition in general – both Ukrainian and global – are more than apparent in his work.
After my third beer,
smoke rings all around
a long-haired sculptor,
...
Every rainbow drinks water - and fish fly in the wind.
Deep oceans of the world - black hole - dust of thought -
fish slip from our hands - in return for five loaves of breads,
in return for a sorrowful glance pale as a bleached sail.
...
For Ivan Drach
Like a heavy door - you close the Millennium
the snow of the past flies after us
like stones. And only the hills and the foxes
...
this local landscape - like a hawk -
in gray gloom; a diary of words
composed by the alphabet of language; the rest:
making coffee - jotting down expenses
...