The poem is clever. There may be little beauty in it, but the meaning is deep. When is our word appropriate when there is silence? The word heals and the word maims. And there is God’s word. And is silence always so – gold? Or maybe it’s just our cowardice. The author of the Ukrainian text argues about this. My translation is not exactly accurate. Thank you, Tatyana for your words. And let them be silver, but they are dearer to me than gold.
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