The route of the second collection of poems by Lubomir Serniak runs through Pidzamche - a magical district of Lviv with a rich, but extremely complex history. It peeks out from the cracks of abandoned industrial buildings, is heard in the whistle of ...
The route of the second collection of poems by Lubomir Serniak runs through Pidzamche - a magical district of Lviv with a rich, but extremely complex history. It peeks out from the cracks of abandoned industrial buildings, is heard in the whistle of trains, floats in the air with chocolate and coffee aromas, touches rough textures. It seeps into all its (un)random travelers, opening a portal for them in a special in-between time.
It is in this fragile geography that the poems of the collection "Pydzamche Mon Amour" are born. Poems whose main desire is to observe and testify. As trams move along the rails of everyday life between stops of doubt. How new buildings devour the old industrial district and its mythical guardians. How love paves the paths of peace. And how the war mercilessly changes all the usual routes.
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