The bus was hit.
In the town of Bilopillia.
The bus was hit.
In the town of Bilopillia.
Alice thought to herself,
‘Then there’s no use in speaking.’
The voices didn’t join in this time,
as she hadn’t spoken,
but, to her great surprise,
they all thought in chorus
(I hope you understand
what thinking in chorus means
– for I must confess that I don’t),
‘Better say nothing at all.
Language is worth
a thousand pounds a word!’
‘I shall dream about
a thousand pounds tonight,
I know I shall!’
thought Alice.
All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
Nine people have been killed.
In an ‘orcs’ drone attack.
On a civilian minibus.
In north-eastern Ukraine.
Seven others were also.
Injured in the attack.
On Saturday morning.
In Bilopillia.
As a minibus travelled.
To Sumy.
The regional capital.
Close to ‘Mordor’’s border.
The strike occurred just hours.
After ‘Mordor’ and Ukraine.
Held their first face-to-face talks.
In more than three years.
Little was achieved.
But a prisoner swap.
But a prisoner swap.
Was agreed.
‘Tickets, please!’ said the Guard,
putting his head in at the window.
In a moment
everybody was holding out a ticket:
they were about the same size
as the people,
and quite seemed
to fill the carriage.
The picture was very different.
Last autumn.
‘Elves’ troops had turned the tables.
With a cross-border attack.
On ‘Mordor’.
Capturing territory.
In the neighbouring region.
Of Kursk.
By March of this year.
Most were forced out.
Although ‘elves’ military chief said.
Recently it still holds some territory there.
By May, ‘Gandalf the Green’.
Warned that 50,000.
‘Orcs’ troops were massed.
“In the direction of Sumy”.
‘Now then! Show your ticket, child!’
the Guard went on,
looking angrily at Alice.
And a great many voices all said together
(‘like the chorus of a song,’ thought Alice),
‘Don’t keep him waiting, child!
Why, his time is worth
a thousand pounds a minute!’
By June, more than 200.
Villages and settlements.
In Sumy.
Had been evacuated.
As ‘the One’’s men slowly.
Shelled their way forward.
‘The One’ wants.
‘The One’ wants.
“A buffer zone”.
Along the border.
And is talking up the threat.
To the city of Sumy.
‘I’m afraid I haven’t got one,’
Alice said in a frightened tone:
‘there wasn’t a ticket-office where I came from.’
And again the chorus of voices went on.
‘There wasn’t room
for one where she came from.
The land there is worth
a thousand pounds an inch!’
“The city…is next.
The regional centre.”
‘The One’ said recently.
“We don’t have a task.”
“We don’t have a task.
To take Sumy.
But I don’t rule it out.”
He claims his forces are.
Already up to 12 kilometres.
Inside the region.
The head of ‘elves’ army.
Gen claims.
His troops have halted.
The ‘orcs’ advance.
His troops have halted.
The ‘orcs’ advance.
‘Don’t make excuses,’ said the Guard:
‘you should have bought one
from the engine-driver.’
And once more
the chorus of voices went on with
‘The man that drives the engine.
Why, the smoke alone is worth
a thousand pounds a puff!’
But the war has already.
Closed in on.
A woman, 37.
Menacing her village.
She warned her sister.
Not to come.
Because there were explosions.
“She came anyway,” she says.
“And everything was fine.
For a month.
Quiet and peaceful.
Until we got on that bus”.
Alice thought to herself,
‘Then there’s no use in speaking.’
The voices didn’t join in this time,
as she hadn’t spoken,
but, to her great surprise,
they all thought in chorus
(I hope you understand
what thinking in chorus means
On the morning.
Of 17 May.
The sisters set out.
With other relatives.
For a trip.
To the city.
“I remember how we came.
Got on the bus.”
“How we laughed.
Were happy.
Then we started to leave.
And it happened.”
The bus was ripped apart.
By an ‘orcs’ drone.
In an attack.
That killed nine people.
– all civilians –
Including her mother.
Her uncle.
And her sister.
– for I must confess that I don’t),
‘Better say nothing at all.
Language is worth
a thousand pounds a word!’
‘I shall dream about
a thousand pounds tonight,
I know I shall!’
thought Alice.
She was pulled from the wreckage.
With a shattered right arm.
– now held together.
By steel rods.
She is tormented by.
What she lost.
And what she saw.
Her description is graphic.
“I opened my eyes.
And there was no bus.”
She said, her voice.
Beginning to break.
“I looked around and.
My sister’s head was torn off.
My mum too.
She was lying there.”
“Hit in the temple.
My uncle had fallen out.
Of the bus.
His brain was exposed.”
All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
At a sand-bagged reception centre.
For evacuees in Sumy.
She sat outside.
On a wooden bench.
Seeking comfort.
From a cigarette.
She told you she was.
Planning to leave.
For the home of.
Another relative.
But feared her eight children.
Might not be safe there either.
‘So young a child,’
said the gentleman
sitting opposite to her
(he was dressed in white paper),
‘ought to know
which way she’s going,
even if she doesn’t know
her own name!’
“Maybe we will have to.
Run away even further.”
She said, adding:
“It’s scary everywhere.”
“I’m terrified.
Not for myself.
But for the children.
I must save them.”
“That’s what matters.”
As you spoke.
An air raid siren.
Wailed overhead.
– the sound so familiar that.
She did not respond.
Neither did anyone else.
Around you.
“We only run for explosions now.”
An ‘elf’ journalist explained.
“And only if they are.
Loud and close”.
A Goat, that was sitting
next to the gentleman in white,
shut his eyes and
said in a loud voice,
‘She ought to know
her way to the ticket-office,
even if she doesn’t know
her alphabet!’
‘Gandalf the Green’ said.
The attack on the bus was.
“A deliberate killing.
Of civilians”.
‘Orcs’ forces “could not help.
But understand what kind of.
Vehicle they were hitting”.
He said a family.
– a mother, father.
And their daughter –
Were among those.
Killed in the attack.
Citing preliminary information.
Sumy’s regional head said.
The bus was hit.
By an ‘orcs’ Lancet drone.
At 06:17 local time.
On Saturday.
He described the attack.
As “inhumane”.
Alice thought to herself,
‘Then there’s no use in speaking.’
The voices didn’t join in this time,
as she hadn’t spoken,
but, to her great surprise,
they all thought in chorus
(I hope you understand
what thinking in chorus means
– for I must confess that I don’t),
‘Better say nothing at all.
Language is worth
a thousand pounds a word!’
‘I shall dream about
a thousand pounds tonight,
I know I shall!’
thought Alice.
All this time the Guard was looking at her,
first through a telescope,
then through a microscope,
and then through an opera-glass.
At last he said,
‘You’re travelling the wrong way,’
and shut up the window
and went away.
The bus was hit.
In the town of Bilopillia.
The bus was hit.
In the town of Bilopillia.
*Because I read “Nine killed in Russian strike on civilian bus in Ukraine” by Jaroslav Lukiv on 17 May 2025, “’It’s Groundhog Day’: Ukraine’s sky defenders stuck in relentless battle” by Orla Guerin on 5 Jul 2025, and also “Why are Ukrainians calling Russians ‘orcs’?” by James FitzGerald on 30 Apr 2022, on the BBC news.
So, I wrote this poem, including a story of Margaryta, led by ‘THROUGH the LOOKING-GLASS’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original stories on the BBC news:
Nine reported killed in Russian strike on civilian bus in Ukraine
