"God Is a Rusyn": Anthology of Contemporary Carpatho-Rusyn Literature

Petro Trokhanovskii

Petro Trokhanovskii PETRO TROKHANOVSKII / Piotr Trochanowski (b. 1947), a Lemko-Rusyn poet, journalist, and cultural activist, was born in southwestern Poland after his family was forced to leave their native village during the 1947 Vistula Operation . In 1976 he returned to live in the Lemko Region. He graduated from the Christian Theological Academy in Warsaw in 1966, but was not ordained to the priesthood. There he took advantage of a rich library, became a voracious reader, and began to write. He has served as choir director in Orthodox parishes first in Sanok and later in Krynica. Trokhanovskii is the founding editor of Besida (1989–), the magazine of the Lemko Society, which includes material on Lemko history, culture, political life, and literature. Trokhanovskii, who has also published under the name of Petro Murianka, is the author of four collections of poetry in Polish, bi-lingual Lemko-Polish, and Lemko Rusyn—Dry Stem (Suchy badly, 1983), Anthill (Muryanchŷsko, 1984), How the Falcon Searches for Water on a Stone (Jak sokół wodę z kamienia / Iak sokil vodŷ na kameny, 1989), and Cloud Demons (Planetnykŷ, 2001). In 1994 he compiled an anthology of Rusyn poetry for children, Mama, Buy Me a Book (Mamko, kup mi knyzhku). In 1983 Trokhanovskii co-founded the Lemko Vatra festival, which was one of the first manifestations of the Rusyn renaissance. He is a prominent activist in Poland’s Lemko Society. He was the first non-Pole to receive the Stanislaw Piętak Literary Prize (1990), and he received the Aleksander Dukhnovych Prize for Rusyn literature in 2002. Trokhanovskii was twice named Distinguished Cultural Activist by the Polish Ministry of Culture (1984, 1998). In his poetry, Trokhanovskii evokes the history of the Lemkos—in particular , the tragedy of the forced expulsion from their homeland in the Vistula Operation of 1947. He also hails the renewal of Lemko-Rusyn culture in the present, as he writes about the nature of his beloved Lemkovyna, the Lemko language, and everyday Lemko life. 146 POLAND [From Iak sokil vodŷ na kameny] To see and die Before you set sun behind the distant mountain before you take with you the evening cry of storks shine for me once more Nurture the flowers on my native land warm my people with freedom and only then set And I will take boundless joy on my back and drag my legs behind you into the dusk
 It’s a pity not to go Through the backwoods days drag their feet as if someone had tied their legs Through black nights stretching out a white cane they move ahead Carelessly indifferently aimlessly PETRO TROKHANOVSKII 147 But it’s a pity not to go
 An aimless poem Is it time time is it death death is it the inviolable pillar is it God save or something else like a Gypsy at a wedding when you are told to sing, son sing But know this one thing, son there are plenty of truths Lemkovyna is only one Only one
 My poem I’ll get into you, my poem and slam the door and no one will see and no one will know what’s happening in you I’ll slip over you 148 POLAND the chuha88 of a torn soul. Against the beast’s scowling eye and against sincere Man And you’ll be mine alone and nobody else’s Bigger than the biggest Pain
 The road Had I failed miserably I would have been an architect I remain a Lemko they call me a poet
 Lemko saint If you could only speak a word if you could only say something what’s your name how long have you been standing here for whom do you pray does it hurt are you at all happy Like an unfaithful Jew rain spits in your face sun 88 A traditional Lemko coat. PETRO TROKHANOVSKII 149 that same sun whips you with beams And though you are holy though they gave you a miter still over your head clouds chase winds
 Humanitas Oh, my Beskyd hunch-backed like fortune like the will of the strongest petrified Your beauty hurts me captivated showcased for the world and for us who faithfully cherished it in our hearts carried it through centuries to comparable days surrounded by spears My heart hurts, oh Beskyd it beats for you forbidden in the grand...