Vasyl Symonenko could have turned 90 today: the best lines of the prominent Ukrainian poet you want to reread again and again

On January 8, 2025, the outstanding Ukrainian poet Vasyl Symonenko would have turned 90 years old. Although the famous poet can only be visited at his grave in Cherkasy, his work remains alive and prophetic to this day, as many of his poems reflect events that now painfully resemble the realities of modern Ukraine.

Symonenko, who is called a "prophet," skillfully predicted the next struggle of Ukrainians for freedom, the tragedies of war, and the indomitable national spirit. His poetry has become a moral support for those who continue to fight for independence and justice, and with the beginning of the full-scale invasion, more and more Ukrainians became interested in the work of the "Thaw poet" who died at the age of 28. OBOZ.UA has collected Vasyl Symonenko's best lines that you want to read over and over again, as they reflect the events in the homeland like a mirror.

Filial

Ukraine, you’re my prayer I dare say —

You’re my millenial care and strife.

And high above the world a battle’s fought today

In the cause of your rights and your life.

May the beet-colored clouds burn forever,

And may the insults fly or not —

I’m determined to sprinkle your sanctified banner

At least with a drop of my blood.

Vasyl Symonenko was particularly sensitive to the struggle of Ukrainians for their freedom and recognition in the world. This poem was written in 1961, and although there was no war going on at the time, the poet knew that repressive measures were taking place throughout the country, and because of this, the Ukrainian SSR was drowning in blood.

Granite obelisks

The nation is but one entire wound together,

The blood enfuriates the soil;

And every tyrant-murderer will have a tether

Just waiting round his neck to coil.

The martyred, and the murdered, and the killed,

Their hearts with vengeance rife,

All rise that judgment be fulfilled.

Their curse mil fall on evil things,

The time will come, from ropes will swing

Apostles of malignity and strife.

Baba Onysia

Baba Onysia once had three sons —

All three of her offspring were lost.

And on every one strand of her crystalline hair

There crackles the winter’s frost.

I’ve seen strife and ifs made me shudder,

But greater strife no one’s known

Than the pain of an aging mother

Who must face her old age alone.

This poem is an allegory of the loss of a generation, when a woman who gave life outlives her children. In the Ukrainian context, this image is particularly relevant given the war and the daily losses of young soldiers at the front.

Perhaps the cannons will roar again*

*rough translation

Perhaps the cannons will roar again,

And the tank will smush the wheat in the field,

And a mother will cry and grieve,

When her sons leave for war.

And someone will kiss their darling for the very last time,

And someone will shed an unwanted tear,

And maybe one will lose faith and might,

Saving their own life for the sake of another.

But not me... I will not quit,

No matter how much it hurts –

For our land, precious and loved,

I am ready to take the damage.

For those children who run to school,

For mothers worn out from labor,

For the lush willow trees,

And for our days, beautiful and pure.

But keep back the tears and despair,

There's no need for fear or nagging –

Only those who do not live for themselves truly live,

Who fight for the lives of others.

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