At the going down of the sun and in the morning
POETRY. UKRAINE. RUSSIA. We will remember Ukraine
The tears of a young Russian soldier
The tears of a Ukrainian girl
How many of them did we kill?
How many did they kill of us?
Was all done for that which we will?
They know why they fight ’gainst us.
Do we know why their blood we spill?
We annex with joy, rapidly.
Comrades in fear, to Georgia do flee.
Returned is the land — ecstasy.
They want not to fight. Why do we?
Nor have they no gripe. Why do we?
Their leader gleans favour as wheat:
A harvest with words sharp as sickles.
Our leader his serfs commandeers,
Won’t yield, won’t be beat, death galore,
Points guns and reaps naught, naught but gore.
Brothers in arms seek their mothers in arms,
But all that the motherland tells
Is that it me will have and send Russia to hell,
And, with mothers in pain
At this bidding,
There will never be ever a ridding
Of guilt and our thoughts of Ukraine.
Ukraine can’t forget but I must ’way from Ukraine.
I shan’t ever forget the Ukraine and, then, yet,
Let all of us home, and try to forget.
Try to discover what’s left of our bliss,
Forget that we ever did start all of this.
Ukraine will never forget
And we shall never forget Ukraine.