It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
‘Gandalf the Green’ credits.
This gritty, industrial city.
With moulding.
His character.
He grew up.
In a sprawling block.
Of flats known as.
The Anthill.
“I want the war.
To end soon.”
She lived near.
‘Gandalf the Green’’s parents.
“He’s a normal, good guy.
Who fights for people.
I just want this war and the sirens.
To end sooner.”
It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
‘Gandalf the Green’ told delegates.
Not to ask Ukraine.
When the war.
Would end.
But instead.
To “ask why.
‘The One’ is still.
Able to continue it”.
With blocked military aid.
Now directly hampering.
His forces.
On the front line.
It was a swipe.
At those delaying.
The ammunition and weapons.
His soldiers desperately need.
“I’m no politician.”
Confesses a man in his 80s.
Perched outside a grocery shop.
“We can’t ask.”
“When the war will stop again.
We must fight;
We won’t tolerate anything else.
People are so angry now.”
It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
In Kryvyi Rih, you meet.
A tearful man as he watches.
His flat get demolished.
After a missile strike last year.
Exposed wallpaper patterns.
Reveal the different lives destroyed.
“No one needs this war.
What is it for anyway?”
“So many people.
Are being killed.”
Does he think Ukraine should?
Swap territory for peace?
“Definitely not.”
He replies bluntly.
“A lot of people died.
For those territories.”
“There is no point.
In giving them up.”
“There is no point.
In giving them up.”
It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
Around Kryvyi Rih.
‘Elves’ try to help.
Where their country’s allies.
Increasingly will not.
In one inconspicuous building.
A growing army of volunteers.
Stitch camouflage nettings.
For troops on the front line.
The men and women.
Are kept separate.
Because of “their different jokes.”
Explains the organiser.
It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
In another industrial wing.
Of the city.
A former bike club has swapped.
Cycling for smoke.
Teams mix chemicals.
Into canisters.
Which will become.
Smoke grenades.
A useful military tool.
If you are trying.
To attack.
Or evacuate the injured.
“It’s impossible.
To stay at home.
With my thoughts.
When my husband is fighting.”
Explains one of the volunteers.
“Here I feel.
I can do something.
To make it easier for them.”
It translates.
As “crooked horn”.
But ‘Gandalf the Green’ calls.
Kryvyi Rih his “big soul and heart”.
*Because I read “Two years into Russia’s invasion, exhausted Ukrainians refuse to give up” by James Waterhouse on 24 Feb 2024, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem as a story of Vita, a story of Valeriy, a story of Yuriy, and a story of Ines.
Please read the original story on the BBC news:
Two years into Russia’s invasion, exhausted Ukrainians refuse to give up – BBC News
**My friend shows you this poem on the Ukrainian website for their children and others!
Please join them!
