Dried roses.
From her parents’ garden.
From her parents’ garden.
Lie in her drawer.
“I learned about the death.
Of three members.
Of my family.
At once.”
“- dad, grandmother.
And grandfather.”
It happened.
In mid-February.
And they died in January.
For almost a month.
The girl did not know.
Anything about her loved ones.
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
She comes from.
A small village.
In the Donetsk region.
Which has been lying.
Which has been lying.
On the front line.
Since 2014.
She herself has been living.
In Kyiv for many years.
But her parents and.
Grandparents remained.
In the Donetsk region.
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
In the fall of 2024.
After the capture of Vuhledar.
‘Orcs’ troops began to press.
In the direction of Kurakhove.
The tiny picturesque.
Village of the girl.
Where less than a thousand people.
Lived before the war.
Was in the way of.
‘The One’’s plans.
To seize the entire.
Donetsk region.
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
She watched with alarm.
As the front line began.
To rapidly approach.
Her parents’ house.
“Back in the summer.
Dad worked.
In the garden.
Planted something there.”
“Planted something there.
Even hired workers.
To help him.
With the housework.”
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
And since September.
Communication, light.
And water began.
To disappear.
Since then, she has.
Rarely been able to.
Get through to.
Her father.
But each time.
She asked him.
To leave for.
A safer place.
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
These were short conversations.
During which she heard.
Artillery banging.
In the background.
“You are glad.
That you managed to.
Get through to.
Your dad.”
“But when you hang up the phone.
You realize that.
In the next second.
He may be gone.”
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
Her mother left earlier.
And her father refused.
– his 87-year-old mother.
The girl’s grandmother.
And her grandmother’s husband.
Remained in the village.
– both are already.
Very old.
Her father explained that.
They would not be able to.
Withstand the move.
Withstand the move.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
And her grandmother.
Who had survived.
The German occupation.
As a child, said:
‘I outlasted the Germans.
And I will outlast these too.’
‘I outlasted the Germans.
And I will outlast these too.’
“I think they simply.
Could not fully comprehend.
All the horror.
All the cruelty of this war.”
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
Then these short.
Calls stopped.
– the ‘orcs’ army.
Was advancing.
She and her father sent.
Each other short SMS.
But later they did not.
Reach each other either.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
“I was very sad about it.
I imagined what it was like.
To be a war around.
And you were writing.”
“Somewhere in the void.
And didn’t know.
If anyone was hearing you.
On the other side at all.”
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
In December.
She learned that their home.
In which she grew up.
Had been destroyed.
She later found it.
In a drone video.
That was shared.
In ‘orcs’ publics.
The house burned badly.
Stood without a roof.
With broken windows.
She later found it.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
Her father.
Together with a neighbor.
Moved to live.
In the basement.
Which he had equipped.
Even before the start of.
The ‘orcs’ offensive.
He put a stove there.
Some furniture.
There was also food.
– the girl hoped that he would.
Be able to hold out there.
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
But he went every day.
To visit his mother.
But he went every day.
To visit her grandmother.
Who lived on the other side.
Of the village.
He brought her bread.
And other food.
During one such hike.
The girl assumes.
Her father was injured.
By explosives from a drone.
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
She does not fully know.
The details of what happened.
One of the villagers.
Who managed to get out of it.
To the occupied parts.
Of Donetsk region.
Spoke about the death.
Of her father.
The girl collected information.
Bit by bit.
From the stories.
Of acquaintances.
As well as from.
Fragmentary messages.
In the village chat.
Many neighbors left.
Even before the start.
Of active fighting.
And elderly people.
Remained in the village.
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
As she was told.
Her father returned.
Home wounded.
Went into the destroyed house.
Lay down on the sofa.
And died.
He was buried.
In the garden.
He was buried.
In the garden.
Near the house where.
The girl’s parents grew roses.
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
From the village chat.
The girl also learned that.
Her grandparents tried to.
Get to a neighboring town.
On foot and.
Died on the way.
On foot and.
Died on the way.
“I will probably never know.
Exactly what happened.
But I can only imagine.
What was supposed to happen there.”
“So that old people.
Grandmother could barely walk.
Dare to go somewhere.
On foot.”
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
The girl’s grandmother.
And her husband were.
Able to be buried.
Only a month and a half later.
In mid-January.
The ‘orcs’ army.
Captured Kurakhove.
By the end of February.
By the end of February.
The village of the girl.
Was already occupied.
By the ‘orcs’.
Away, old man;
give me thy hand; away!
Give me thy hand; come on.
Give me thy hand; come on.
In the videos that.
She found on the Internet.
The girl tried to see.
What was left of him.
After the arrival.
Of the ‘orcs’ army.
“There, every centimeter.
Of earth is.”
“Every inch of land.
There is scorched.
Shattered, crushed.
It’s a miracle.”
“It’s a miracle.
That anyone managed.
To survive there.”
To survive there.”
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
No farther, sir;
a man may rot even here.
She thinks about.
What her family’s.
Last days were like.
What they ate.
Where they slept.
Whether they had hot food.
Whether they could.
At least drink tea.
“It’s winter.
When I think about it.
My heart breaks.
To pieces.”
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
The greatest pain for her.
Is the inability.
To fully mourn.
The death of her relatives.
To put flowers.
On the graves.
And to at least know.
Where these graves are.
She says that.
She still subconsciously.
Does not believe.
That they died.
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
“I never thought.
That a funeral was.
Such an important ritual.”
Says the girl.
“– When you know that.
A person has died.
And you see it.
And you stop bargaining.”
“With the universe about the fate.
Of your relatives.
You know there’s a place.
Where they’ve found rest.”
“You know what.
That place looks like.
And this, it turns out.
Is very important.”
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
The neighbors who remained.
In the village were.
Taken to the occupied territory.
By ‘orcs’ volunteers.
No one can return now.
Because of mining.
And fighting.
Very close.
Therefore, there is.
No way to even ask.
Someone to go there.
Look and ask.
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
The tiny picturesque.
Village of Kurakhove.
Her village was so tiny that.
It is not even on some maps.
Now it actually does not.
Exist in reality.
The tiny picturesque.
Village of Kurakhove.
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
There is no.
Father’s orchard.
With apples and peaches.
And mother’s pond.
With water lilies.
And rose plantations.
– a small business that.
The girl’s parents had.
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
“It was so beautiful there.
Roses to the horizon…
All this was simply.
Trampled on.”
“As if the lives.
Of my parents.
My grandmother.
Didn’t matter at all.”
Here, father,
take the shadow of this tree
For your good host;
pray that the right may thrive:
If I ever
I return to you again,
I’ll bring you comfort.
If I ever
She hopes that.
One day she will be able to.
Go to her tiny village.
Of Kurakhove.
Find the graves of.
Her father and grandparents.
Lay flowers.
And say goodbye.
And also to say goodbye.
To a place full of.
Her childhood memories.
“If this does not happen.”
“It will be a wound.
That will never heal.
This is the inability.
To put an end to yourself.”
Dried roses.
From her parents’ garden.
From her parents’ garden.
Lie in her drawer.
*Because I read “”Тата поховали на городі, де росли троянди”. Як розділені фронтом сім’ї не можуть попрощатися з рідними(“Dad was buried in the garden where roses grew.” How families divided by the front cannot say goodbye to their relatives)” by Вікторія Приседська(Victoria Prysedska) on 28 Jun 2025 on the BBC news Ukraine, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, led by ‘KING LEAR’ written by William Shakespeare, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news Ukraine:
