Last updated on August 25, 2023
…
Mothers won’t be able to mourn them,
Wives won’t be able to retrieve them.
Too many of them to record their names.
Away from prying eyes they’ll be buried,
Some will receive medals for their deaths.
And they… their souls soaring over the burned city.
Their bodies scattered on the ground, like a torn necklace.
They have filled this empty, hopeless May.
Dandelions are already blooming next to them and grass is advancing.
The wind cradles them in vain, the sun touches them.
They are discovered and collected, like mushrooms or flowers.
Silent “losses” completely anonymous.
Removed from the streets to maintain decorum,
Loaded into sacks with their eyes open,
closing them is too much work.
It’s not a burial: it’s the concealment of a crime.
Poem by Oksana Stomina born in Mariupol Ukraine and currently forced to live abroad. She is a poet, a writer, and a human rights activist.
Translated into English by Marina Sorina
A strong message to readers.
Most powerful
This gave me chills. Thanks for sharing this… war is so ugly, but this is beautifully written.
I am glad you read it. It gave me the chills too. So beautiful, yet so brutal as well. She is gifted!
Beautiful words about an awful situation. I hope she will eventually be able to return home.
I do to. So many have been forced out of their home country, it’s so easy to forget.
How very sad, yet beautiful!
That’s exactly it. Mixed emotions.
Beautiful!
It’s a strong poem about a war that is going on for too long.
That is an atrocious situation in which the weakest and most innocent die, while the powerful calculate the advantages they will be able to derive from it🥹
Sadly, every war is like that.