The Bellman himself they all praised to the skies—
Such a carriage, such ease and such grace!
Such solemnity, too! One could see he was wise,
The moment one looked in his face!
He had bought a large map representing the sea,
Without the least vestige of land:
And the crew were much pleased when they found it to be
A map they could all understand.
“Two more civilians.
Died last night.”
She says, before.
Her phone connection cuts off.
She is trapped in.
The ‘orcs’-occupied ‘elves’ city.
Of Oleshky.
Which she says is.
“Constantly shelled”.
And cut off from.
And cut off from.
Food and water.
“What’s the good of Mercator’s North Poles and Equators,
Tropics, Zones, and Meridian Lines?”
So the Bellman would cry: and the crew would reply
“They are merely conventional signs!
Three days later.
She tells you the two.
Who were killed were.
A husband and wife.
She knew them well.
She knew them well.
They were bringing home.
A bag of food.
From the closest neighbouring town.
Of Radensk.
23km away.
But were unable to get home.
Before a curfew imposed.
By ‘orcs’ occupation authorities.
They were then killed.
By a drone.
“Other maps are such shapes, with their islands and capes!
But we’ve got our brave Captain to thank
(So the crew would protest) “that he’s bought us the best—
A perfect and absolute blank!”
Four separate sources.
Have confirmed the deaths.
Of two civilians.
Carrying food.
Carrying food.
On 20 September.
She does not want.
To share their names.
For fear she might.
Be identified.
For fear she might.
Be identified.
This was charming, no doubt; but they shortly found out
That the Captain they trusted so well
Had only one notion for crossing the ocean,
And that was to tingle his bell.
Hers is just one of.
The many harrowing accounts.
You have heard from residents.
In the front-line city.
In southern Kherson.
In recent days.
In southern Kherson.
In recent days.
He was thoughtful and grave—but the orders he gave
Were enough to bewilder a crew.
When he cried “Steer to starboard, but keep her head larboard!”
What on earth was the helmsman to do?
Occupied by ‘orcs’.
Since 2022.
Oleshky is trapped.
Oleshky is trapped.
Between the Dnipro River.
Which separates it.
From ‘elves’ positions.
And ‘orcs’ forces.
Then the bowsprit got mixed with the rudder sometimes:
A thing, as the Bellman remarked,
That frequently happens in tropical climes,
When a vessel is, so to speak, “snarked.”
It is also one of the cities.
Where thousands of people.
Lost their homes.
Lost their homes.
After the collapse.
Of Nova Khakova Dam.
Of Nova Khakova Dam.
In 2023.
Flooding buildings up.
To their rooftops.
Flooding buildings up.
To their rooftops.
But the principal failing occurred in the sailing,
And the Bellman, perplexed and distressed,
Said he had hoped, at least, when the wind blew due East,
That the ship would not travel due West!
Ukraine and Nato accused.
‘Mordor’ of.
Blowing up the dam.
While ‘Mordor’ blamed Ukraine.
Oleshky was home.
To 24,000 people.
Before ‘orcs’.
Full-scale invasion.
Now the ‘elves’ government.
Estimates that.
Some 6,000 people remain.
In the city.
In the city.
And its surrounding areas.
Including 200 children.
Including 200 children.
But the danger was past—they had landed at last,
With their boxes, portmanteaus, and bags:
Yet at first sight the crew were not pleased with the view,
Which consisted of chasms and crags.
Residents say.
Children remaining.
In wider Oleshky are.
Suffering from malnutrition.
A lack of medical services.
And are “degrading”.
Without access.
To education.
The Bellman perceived that their spirits were low,
And repeated in musical tone
Some jokes he had kept for a season of woe—
But the crew would do nothing but groan.
Many have also told you.
Independently there is.
Only one hospital.
Partially operational.
Opening a few days.
A week.
To perform.
Critical amputations.
Ukraine has attempted.
To deliver supplies.
To the area but has not.
Had success in recent months.
He served out some grog with a liberal hand,
And bade them sit down on the beach:
And they could not but own that their Captain looked grand,
As he stood and delivered his speech.
Earlier this week.
The Kremlin acknowledged that.
Oleshky faced.
“A critical situation”.
And “problems with supplies.
Of food and medicine”,
But added that.
But added that.
“‘Orcs’ military was working.
To resolve them”.
And blamed Kyiv.
And blamed Kyiv.
“Friends, Romans, and countrymen, lend me your ears!”
(They were all of them fond of quotations:
So they drank to his health, and they gave him three cheers,
While he served out additional rations).
The local population.
Is living under.
A “full blockade”.
By ‘orcs’ forces.
A “full blockade”.
By ‘orcs’ forces.
According to.
The ‘elf’ Foreign Minister.
Speaking at.
The UN General Assembly.
In New York.
On Tuesday.
He called on.
The international community.
To pressure ‘Mordor’ into allowing.
Humanitarian aid into the city.
“We have sailed many months, we have sailed many weeks,
(Four weeks to the month you may mark),
But never as yet (’tis your Captain who speaks)
Have we caught the least glimpse of a Snark!
Inside Oleshky.
She faces.
A daily struggle.
To survive.
“There is no food.
Here in the city.”
“There is no food.
Here in the city.”
She says, adding that.
The last food delivery.
Was back in May.
Was back in May.
“We have sailed many weeks, we have sailed many days,
(Seven days to the week I allow),
But a Snark, on the which we might lovingly gaze,
We have never beheld till now!
“I eat once a day.
A dinner only.
I make some plain bread.
Sometimes I can have it.”
“With a tomato.
Or with some honey.
And a tea.
That’s it.”
“Come, listen, my men, while I tell you again
The five unmistakable marks
By which you may know, wheresoever you go,
The warranted genuine Snarks.
Many residents have turned.
To cooking garden weeds.
As they have run out.
Of the vegetables.
They managed to grow.
Over the summer.
Over the summer.
She explains.
“Let us take them in order. The first is the taste,
Which is meagre and hollow, but crisp:
Like a coat that is rather too tight in the waist,
With a flavour of Will-o’-the-wisp.
Which weeds are safe.
To eat and.
How to boil them.
Has become a topic.
Of discussion on local.
Telegram messaging chats.
Along with calls.
Between residents.
To sell, swap or.
Share pieces of food.
To sell, swap or.
Share pieces of food.
“Its habit of getting up late you’ll agree
That it carries too far, when I say
That it frequently breakfasts at five-o’clock tea,
And dines on the following day.
No shops are open.
Any more in Oleshky.
No shops are open.
Any more in Oleshky.
With residents.
Unable to source.
Either clothes or.
Hygiene products.
The city has had.
No electricity.
No gas or.
No water.
Since the Kakhovka dam was.
Attacked three years ago.
Since the Kakhovka dam was.
Attacked three years ago.
“The third is its slowness in taking a jest.
Should you happen to venture on one,
It will sigh like a thing that is deeply distressed:
And it always looks grave at a pun.
While some residents.
Have risked travelling.
On foot along mined roads.
Out of the city.
In search of supplies.
It is now deemed too much.
It is now deemed too much.
Of a danger.
“The fourth is its fondness for bathing-machines,
Which it constantly carries about,
And believes that they add to the beauty of scenes—
A sentiment open to doubt.
Working out.
How many people.
Have been killed.
In Oleshky is difficult.
The UN Human Rights.
Monitoring Mission in Ukraine.
Has recorded reports.
This year of.
At least 29 civilians killed.
And 54 injured.
In Oleshky.
And Hola Prystan.
In Oleshky.
And Hola Prystan.
– about 24km.
To the east.
Local volunteers.
Estimate that.
Number could be.
Significantly higher.
“The fifth is ambition. It next will be right
To describe each particular batch:
Distinguishing those that have feathers, and bite,
From those that have whiskers, and scratch.
“For, although common Snarks do no manner of harm,
Yet, I feel it my duty to say,
Some are Boojums—” The Bellman broke off in alarm,
For the Baker had fainted away.
*Because I read “Eating garden weeds to survive in Russian-occupied city cut off from food and water” by Olga Malchevska on 24 Sep 2026, 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 Halia, led by ‘The Hunting of the Snark’ written by Lewis Carroll, you know.
Please read the original story on the BBC news, and on the BBC news Ukraine, of course:
Oleshky: Eating garden weeds to survive in Russian-occupied city cut off from food and water
Суп з бур’яну і собаки, які їдять тіла: що відбувається в окупованих Олешках – BBC News Україна
