Kurama (Japan). 25 poems about the russian invasion of Ukraine (2024 events)

 

On this video: Exhausted Ukraine struggles to find new men for front line — BBC News.

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET IN CHERKASY

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

 

When he and his patrol hit.

The streets of Cherkasy.

Men often swerve.

To avoid them.

Most of those.

Who wanted to fight.

Are either dead.

Injured or.

Who wanted to fight.

Are still stuck at the front.

Waiting to be relieved.

By new recruits.

In the central town.

Of Cherkasy.

Like elsewhere.

Finding them isn't easy now.

That the first burst.

Of enthusiasm.

And energy has faded.

Ukraine is exhausted.

 

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

 

“I don't get it.

People are out and about.

Like the war is.

Somewhere far away.”

“But this is.

A full-scale invasion.

And it's like people.

Still don't care.”

He is frustrated.

By what he sees.

As indifference.

“We need everyone.”

“We need everyone.

To come together.

Like they did.

On the first day.”

“Everyone was.

United then.

like brothers.”

He is frustrated.

Instead, the security service.

In Cherkasy is constantly.

Shutting down local.

Social media channels.

That warn people when.

The conscription teams.

Are in town and.

Alert them to areas to avoid.

 

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

 

At 24.

He has sacrificed.

A lot for.

His country.

He grew up dreaming.

Of being a soldier.

His eyes light up.

When he remembers that.

And he was serving.

In the army in February 2022.

When ‘orcs’ troops rolled.

Across the border.

He fought near Kyiv.

Then Soledar.

In the eastern Donbas.

Where the battle was brutal.

That first summer.

He was moved to Bakhmut.

“We came under heavy fire.

A shell landed next to me.”

“I lost my whole elbow.

There was nothing left.”

He says, describing an attack.

In which he was badly injured.

He managed to.

Crawl beneath.

A bush and.

He began to pray.

 

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

 

The soldier admits.

That getting to hospital.

Was a huge relief:

Not just because he'd survived.

But because he was.

Finally off the front line.

“It was hard there.

I can't even put it into words.”

He looks down.

And falls quiet.

His injuries.

Were severe.

His right arm was amputated.

Below the shoulder.

He still feels pain.

Where his limb is missing.

And he has shrapnel.

In his leg.

His basic prosthetic.

Gives him limited movement.

But he wanted.

To go on serving.

So he became.

A conscription officer.

 

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

 

After all he's been through.

You wonder whether.

He understands why.

Other men evade the draft.

“One day, their children.

Will ask what they did.

During the war.

When the men were fighting.”

“When they reply.

‘I was hiding.’

Then they'll plummet.

In the children's eyes.”

He says firmly.

And yet the price Ukraine is.

Paying to defend itself.

Is already immense.

When you ask him.

Whether he's lost friends.

In the fighting.

He admits that.

There's “almost no one left”.

From his entire company.

“The only ones left.

Are injured like me.”

“The others are dead.”

And yet the price Ukraine is.

Paying to defend itself.

Is already immense.

 

He is a conscription officer.

Looking for.

Soldiers for.

‘Elves’ army.

But almost two years.

Into ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

There's no flood of volunteers.

To the front line anymore.

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

Exhausted Ukraine struggles to find new men for front line — BBC News

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

POETS FROM KAKHOVKA

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

Away from.

The eastern front line.

There are signs of recovery.

Among the ruins.

Irpin, near Kyiv.

Was occupied by ‘orcs’ forces.

At the very start.

Of the war.

There are shell-shattered buildings.

All around.

But also the sound.

Of building work.

For those who.

Lost everything.

There are now small “towns”.

Of pre-fabricated cabins.

Each with two rooms.

And a shower room.

About half of the residents.

Are from Irpin itself.

Others have been.

Displaced from.

Closer to the front.

Like she and her husband.

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

She and her husband.

Have just moved in.

From Kakhovka in the east.

Still occupied by ‘orcs’ forces.

At the start of the war.

Their son was.

Captured there.

And held in a basement.

She says.

He was tortured.

For shouting.

Pro-‘elves’ slogans.

When their son got out.

He left the region.

And immediately signed up.

To fight for Ukraine.

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

When she flicks through her phone.

For pictures to show you.

It throws up images.

Of terrible injuries.

Most of the flesh.

On one of her son's legs.

Was blown off and.

His foot was in tatters.

Their son was injured.

Last autumn in Avdiivka.

Where the fighting.

Has been fierce.

And even ‘elves’ officials.

Admit their army.

Is outgunned.

And outmanned.

One source.

Put the difference.

At 8-1.

In ‘orcs’ favour.

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

They couldn't leave Kakhovka.

With their son.

Because their elderly parents.

Refused to go.

So they stayed.

Under occupation.

Terrified the ‘orcs’ might discover.

That their son was a soldier.

They finally left.

When their son was injured.

To be with him.

In hospital.

But she cries with.

The shame she feels.

At leaving.

Relatives behind.

“We call and ask them.

‘Is it quiet?’”

she says, meaning.

Is there shelling.

“Everyone there is waiting.

For liberation.

For it to be loud.

But there is only quiet.”

“People have been crying.

For so many months.

And nothing is getting.

Any better.”

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

But there is another fear.

Driving her tears.

She shows you.

Videos of her.

Pushing her son around.

In a wheelchair.

The two are laughing.

Covered in snow.

Then there are pictures.

Of the skin grafts he's had.

Where she says the doctors.

Have “performed a miracle”.

But as soon as.

Her son is fully fit.

He's told his mother.

He'll go back to the front.

He says there are.

Not enough soldiers there.

His friends need him.

His friends need him.

So she is praying for.

The war to end first.

“I think he has.

Already done his duty.”

Eyes full of tears.

“As a mother.

It is a sin.

To say this.”

“But while he is in hospital.

I can sleep calmly.

I can't sleep.

When he is on the front line.”

“So I am glad.

My son is in hospital now.

Although I really shouldn't say this.

I'm glad he's not at the front.”

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

Exhausted Ukraine struggles to find new men for front line — BBC News

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET BELIEVING

“But maybe being.

Enslaved by ‘Mordor’.

Is more frightening?

Now we see death.”

“It's very difficult.

Very difficult.

But there is no way back.

We can't give up.”

On the edge of Cherkasy.

There is a cemetery.

With a long line.

Of recent graves.

They're for the men.

Of all ages.

From the town.

Who've died fighting.

From the town.

Who've died fighting.

Since ‘the One’ gave.

The order to invade.

Ukraine honours the dead.

As heroes.

But it's left to their families.

To grieve.

“But maybe being.

Enslaved by ‘Mordor’.

Is more frightening?

Now we see death.”

“It's very difficult.

Very difficult.

But there is no way back.

We can't give up.”

Each grave is decorated.

With national flags.

And heaped with.

Wreaths and flowers.

There are images.

Fixed to crosses.

Or etched into.

Marble headstones.

Or etched into.

Marble headstones.

Of the soldiers.

In military uniform.

She can't bear.

To put her son's photo.

On his grave yet.

On his grave yet.

The image that she used.

For his funeral.

Is still at home.

She's not ready to let go.

“But maybe being.

Enslaved by ‘Mordor’.

Is more frightening?

Now we see death.”

“It's very difficult.

Very difficult.

But there is no way back.

We can't give up.”

Her son was killed.

Last June.

By a mine explosion.

Near Bakhmut.

Her son was about.

To turn 23.

And already.

A deputy commander.

“I believe my son.

Died doing.

The right thing.”

She says firmly.

As her daughter.

Cries quietly.

Beside her.

“I'm a teacher.”

“And I always tell.

The children this:

We are right.

We are defending.”

“Our country and our children.

My son was defending us.

He believed in this cause.

And I believe.”

She says before.

Pausing to take in.

The flags and.

Faces all around.

She hasn't visited.

The cemetery for a little while.

And the row of.

Soldiers' graves has grown.

“But maybe being.

Enslaved by ‘Mordor’.

Is more frightening?

Now we see death.”

“It's very difficult.

Very difficult.

But there is no way back.

We can't give up.”

“Do you think my son wasn't afraid?

I was afraid too.

When he went.

Everyone's afraid of dying.”

She answers.

When you wonder what.

She thinks of those who.

Avoid signing up to fight.

“But maybe being.

Enslaved by ‘Mordor’.

Is more frightening?

Now we see death.”

“It's very difficult.

Very difficult.

But there is no way back.

We can't give up.”

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

Exhausted Ukraine struggles to find new men for front line — BBC News

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

POETS IN A LIVING ROOM

There are few places.

From where you can see.

‘Orcs’-occupied territory.

With the naked eye in Ukraine.

The western bank.

Of the Dnipro river.

In the city of Kherson.

Is one of them.

You can't see.

The ‘orcs’ troops on the other.

Low, marshy riverbank.

But you know they're there.

Incoming artillery fire.

As you arrive at.

An abandoned building.

Serves as a sharp reminder.

There is nothing new.

About shelling in war.

But the unit you're meeting.

Deals with drones.

One of the key innovations.

Of this invasion.

Drones are simple, cheap.

And effective weapons in this war.

 

As you hug.

The side of the building.

And take cover.

In the stairwell.

You're led inside.

From the freezing winter winds.

To the warmth of.

A militarised living room.

 

The smell of.

A strawberry vape.

Hangs above.

These ‘elves’ soldiers.

Sitting on armchairs.

With looks of quiet focus.

And cans of.

Monster energy drink.

You imagine the floral wallpaper.

Wasn't their choice.

A 20-year-old pilot.

Suddenly sits up.

They're told.

The ‘orcs’ have launched.

Drones from.

Across the water.

“It's from a location.

Known to us.”

Explains commander of the Samosud squad.

In Ukraine's 11th National Guard Brigade.

“Our goal is to.

Destroy the pilots.

We have the coordinates.

So we're flying there right now.”

There are at least.

A dozen drones.

On the floor.

All loaded with grenades.

A cat.

The unit's unofficial mascot.

Nuzzles against.

One of the propellers.

 

As you hug.

The side of the building.

And take cover.

In the stairwell.

You're led inside.

From the freezing winter winds.

To the warmth of.

A militarised living room.

 

One drone is.

Taken outside.

As the pilot puts on.

His VR headset.

You watch on the TV.

As he flies it.

Across the river.

Into occupied territory.

From this vantage point.

There are no.

Obvious signs.

Of life.

A few kilometres later.

His drone arrives at.

An industrial area.

It passes a warehouse.

Before hovering next to.

A block of flats.

He eventually spots.

An antenna.

Next to a window.

In the stairwell.

And flies straight into it.

The screen turns blue.

 

As you hug.

The side of the building.

And take cover.

In the stairwell.

You're led inside.

From the freezing winter winds.

To the warmth of.

A militarised living room.

 

He exhales and.

Removes his headset.

“When we first did this.

It was emotional.”

“Now this is business.

As usual.

I didn't get enough time.

To play computer games.”

“Before the full-scale invasion.

Now I'm catching up!”

They launch another drone.

But the screen turns blue.

As soon as it.

Crosses the river.

The ‘orcs’ have turned on.

Their jamming system.

A third then makes.

The same journey.

This time it makes it through.

And he returns to the block of flats.

He's able to confirm.

The antenna was destroyed.

With 10 minutes.

Of battery life left.

He flies off.

To see what else.

He can detect.

Or destroy.

 

As you hug.

The side of the building.

And take cover.

In the stairwell.

You're led inside.

From the freezing winter winds.

To the warmth of.

A militarised living room.

 

His unit has been.

Targeting a main road.

Which the ‘orcs’ use.

To deliver supplies.

Civilians are banned.

From driving there.

So the ‘elves’ drone pilots.

Hit anything with wheels.

He spots an ‘orcs’ checkpoint.

And flies towards it.

Unfortunately for him.

They use a jamming gun.

And the screen turns blue.

As he gets close.

He exhales again.

The commander says.

“No matter how many times.

We hit the same places.

The ‘orcs’ are constantly replenished.

They're kind of fearless.”

With each drone.

Costing around 0.

It's a constant cycle.

Of launch, seek and destroy.

The commander says.

his team once destroyed.

An S-350 air defence missile system.

Worth 6m.

 

As you hug.

The side of the building.

And take cover.

In the stairwell.

You're led inside.

From the freezing winter winds.

To the warmth of.

A militarised living room.

 

Drones mean the ‘orcs’.

Can't hide anywhere.

Within 10km of.

The front line.

But, crucially.

The invaders are doing.

Exactly the same.

To the ‘elves’.

Under constant drone surveillance.

And enemy bombardment.

Life has gradually drained.

From Kherson's streets.

Aside from.

A limited crossing.

Further up.

The Dnipro.

Near the town of Krynky.

‘Elves’ attacks here.

Are only probing.

And require patience.

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

In Ukraine's river war, drones mean nowhere is safe — BBC News

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET UNDER AN ARCHWAY

There are few places.

From where you can see.

‘Orcs’-occupied territory.

With the naked eye in Ukraine.

The western bank.

Of the Dnipro river.

In the city of Kherson.

Is one of them.

You can't see.

The ‘orcs’ troops on the other.

Low, marshy riverbank.

But you know they're there.

In a snow-covered park.

In Kherson.

You meet a mobile air-defence team.

Under an archway.

Drones mean the ‘orcs’.

Can't hide anywhere.

Within 10km of.

The front line.

But, crucially.

The invaders are doing.

Exactly the same.

To the ‘elves’.

Mobile air defence units.

In Kherson are.

Constantly on the move.

To avoid detection.

You're told to move.

In small groups.

Because of watching.

‘Orcs’ drones.

As you stride forward.

In your body armour.

Dog-walkers turn away from you.

With a slight look of confusion.

“My call sign is King.”

Says a unit deputy commander.

In the 124th Territorial Defence Brigade.

With a fist bump.

They're gathered around.

A UK-registered truck with.

A 50 calibre machine gun.

Mounted on the back.

“We work 24/7.

We destroy.

All kinds of drones.

Mainly Iranian-made Shaheds.”

Mobile air defence units.

In Kherson are.

Constantly on the move.

To avoid detection.

“‘Orcs’ factories are.

On a military footing.

They are constantly.

Increasing their power.”

“At this point, it's relentless.”

So does King think ‘elves’ forces.

Could cross the river.

In large numbers this year?

“It's hard to think about.

We're just doing our jobs.

To make sure it happens.

As soon as possible.”

Under constant drone surveillance.

And enemy bombardment.

Life has gradually drained.

From Kherson's streets.

Aside from.

A limited crossing.

Further up.

The Dnipro.

Near the town of Krynky.

‘Elves’ attacks here.

Are only probing.

And require patience.

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

In Ukraine's river war, drones mean nowhere is safe — BBC News

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET IN A STALEMATE

There are few places.

From where you can see.

‘Orcs’-occupied territory.

With the naked eye in Ukraine.

The western bank.

Of the Dnipro river.

In the city of Kherson.

Is one of them.

You can't see.

The ‘orcs’ troops on the other.

Low, marshy riverbank.

But you know they're there.

On the outskirts of Kherson.

In an icy field.

Pilots practice.

Drone flights.

With plastic bottles.

Tied beneath them.

In place of grenades.

In place of grenades.

“We are engaged.

In a struggle.

Of technologies.

An arms race:”

“Who will be the first.

To invent what.

Who will assemble.

Something cool.”

It takes just.

14 hours of training.

To qualify as.

A drone pilot.

Ukraine's government.

Is encouraging people.

To take part.

In free training.

As well as.

To manufacture drones.

At home to send.

To the front.

Through his balaclava.

A drone commander explains.

Their importance.

In this war of attrition.

“We are engaged.

In a struggle.

Of technologies.

An arms race:”

“Who will be the first.

To invent what.

Who will assemble.

Something cool.”

It's widely accepted.

That several innovations.

Now need to happen.

At once.

for the front lines.

To change significantly.

‘Elves’ commander-in-chief.

Gen said in November.

That ‘Mordor’ and Ukraine.

Had “reached the level.

Of technology that puts us.

Into a stalemate”.

“During the First World War.

Aviation was born.”

Says the drone commander.

“Now we are starting.”

“The future war of drones.

Which maybe in two decades.

Will turn the tide.

Of any war.”

Source: https://www.koryu-meets-chess.info/

 

 

Please read the original story:

In Ukraine's river war, drones mean nowhere is safe — BBC News

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET PLANTING

She shows you.

Purple crocuses.

And bluebells.

In neat rows.

And the green shoots.

Of daffodils.

Then she leads you.

Past the porch.

Where her husband was shot.

Through a wooden gate.

Onto the plot of land.

Where she buried him.

“Look how many.

Tulips are coming out!”

She points towards the spot.

Now a neat flowerbed again.

“It used to be.

So lovely here.

We'll soon have flowers again.

All round the house.”

She has finally been able.

To install a headstone.

For her husband’s grave.

After two years.

 

When ‘orcs’ soldiers killed.

Her husband.

She had to wrap him.

In a blanket.

And bury him.

At the back of their garden.

She then fled Bucha.

With her daughter.

It was March 2022.

The ‘orcs’ had occupied.

The small town.

Just outside Kyiv.

And taken over.

The pensioners' home.

Soldiers drove a tank.

Into their yard.

And used the house opposite.

As their headquarters.

While Bucha had endured.

The horrors.

Two years on.

She has finally installed.

A marble headstone on her husband’s.

Grave with his photograph.

After Bucha was liberated.

She was able to have.

Him reburied properly.

At the local cemetery.

The couple's home.

Destroyed in the fighting.

Is slowly.

Being rebuilt.

She has been planting.

Bright coloured flowers.

In the yard.

Of their home.

But when the house is finished.

She will live there alone.

She is anxious to move back.

Into her new home.

Just a few steps.

From Yablunska Street.

Her new home is.

Still just a shell.

The builders have promised.

To finish it by summer.

But she hasn't seen.

Them for days.

Homeless for two years.

On top of her bereavement.

She is anxious to move in.

“I'm trying to cope.”

“But my blood pressure is high.

Which it never was.

Before the war.”

Showing you around the building site.

“I'm getting heart scans.

Signs of problems.

It's all from the stress.

From the memories.”

In 2022.

You saw the burned-out wreck.

Of her old home not long after.

The ‘orcs’ had pulled out.

The yard was still heaped.

With alcohol bottles.

And wrappers from their.

Military ration packs.

It was the rubbish.

Of men who had shot.

Her husband.

In the head.

When he surfaced.

For a moment.

From the cellar where.

The couple were hiding.

She found her husband’s body.

Later that night.

Face down.

On their porch.

The investigation is still open.

One of hundreds of.

Suspected war crimes.

Cases in Bucha.

She was recently.

Called in by police.

Who had found.

New CCTV footage.

And hoped she might.

Help identify.

The soldiers.

On film.

“Maybe they can be.

Charged in absentia.

I know ‘Mordor’ will never.

Hand them over.”

She says, realistic about.

The chances of anyone.

Being held to account.

For the killing.

“Personally, I'd like.

To grab them.

By the throat.

And demand to know.”

“Why they had to.

Come here,” she says.

Suddenly animated.

“They are scumbags.”

Across town.

She is worried too.

Especially by the recent increase.

In ‘orcs’ missile strikes.

She keeps visiting her house.

To check on its progress and.

To be closer to her memories.

From before the occupation.

She feeds a cat.

The stray cat.

Her husband once loved.

To photograph.

Gardening distracts her.

When everything gets too much.

“There's such ruin.

All over Ukraine!”

“They're rebuilding here in Bucha.

And that's such joy.

But there's no peace.

No stability.”

 

She shows you.

Purple crocuses.

And bluebells.

In neat rows.

And the green shoots.

Of daffodils.

Then she leads you.

Past the porch.

Where her husband was shot.

Through a wooden gate.

Onto the plot of land.

Where she buried him.

“Look how many.

Tulips are coming out!”

She points towards the spot.

Now a neat flowerbed again.

“It used to be.

So lovely here.

We'll soon have flowers again.

All round the house.”

She has finally been able.

To install a headstone.

For her husband’s grave.

After two years.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET TRACING

 

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

Behind the white walls.

Of St Andrew's Church.

Where many were buried in.

A mass grave during the occupation.

There is now a memorial wall.

Of metal plaques.

So far it displays.

509 names.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

Some squares are still blank.

Because there are more than.

100 unidentified bodies.

At the town cemetery.

Unearthed from.

Shallow graves.

All over Bucha.

And reburied.

DNA samples were taken first.

In the hope that.

Someone would one day come.

Looking for them.

Other plaques on the memorial wall.

Have no death date.

Only the month of March.

When Bucha was under ‘orcs’ occupation.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

Opposite is.

A sign that lists.

The dozens of people.

Still missing.

Among the names.

Is her husband.

Whose wife you first met.

In 2022.

You were investigating.

The killing.

Of five men.

From Bucha.

Whose bodies.

Had been found.

Beneath Camp Radiant.

A children's summer camp.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

Her husband had been.

Taken away by ‘orcs’ soldiers.

And she feared he might be.

One of the dead.

He wasn't.

After months of searching.

She finally traced her husband.

To a prison in ‘Mordor’.

“They took him to Belarus.

Then to Detention Centre.

Number Two in Bryansk.

In ‘Mordor’.”

Through other ‘elves’ swapped.

For ‘orcs’ POWs.

She learned that he was then.

Moved to a facility in Tula.

“‘Mordor’ has officially confirmed.

He's a prisoner.

But I had to find him.

Through my own contacts.”

“They should just give.

The civilians back.

But they don't.”

“But they don't.”

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

Her husband retired.

From the army.

In 2019.

With PTSD.

As a civilian prisoner.

She fears.

His chances of.

Being exchanged are slim.

As only a few dozen.

Non-combatants.

Have been returned.

So far.

“There are a lot of civilians.

From Bucha missing.

People we know.

Are in prison.”

“But the ‘orcs’ haven't confirmed.

At least they've admitted.

To having my husband.

Officially.”

She has heard nothing.

From her husband.

Directly since.

He was taken.

But she knows from others.

Held in Bryansk.

That they were tortured.

“They say it was really hard.”

“They were not fed.

They were badly beaten.

Including with electric shock.

And pipes.”

“Now I don't know.

What else to do.

I can't get him freed.

I can't find any way to do it.”

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

She herself is.

Ethnically ‘orc’.

Both her parents are.

From the country.

Now holding her husband.

Prisoner illegally.

And accused of.

Abusing him.

It was people like her.

That ‘the One’ used.

As his excuse.

For invading Ukraine.

‘The One’ claimed they needed.

Saving from brutal treatment.

At the hands of.

A “Nazi” government in Kyiv.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

As you talk.

In the yard.

Children play football.

Laughing and shouting.

Most of the pre-war population.

Of Bucha has returned.

Including many who fled.

Ukraine as refugees.

But she worries things could.

Deteriorate again.

“You see what.

‘The One’’s up to.”

“Blaming Ukraine for.

The Moscow terrorist attack.”

Referring to last month's attack.

On the Crocus concert venue.

“I think he wants.

A full war.

Full mobilisation.”

“Full mobilisation.”

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

‘Orcs’ captured, but he’ll be back to.

‘Orcs’ captured the land.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

POETS REBUILDING

 

As she walks around.

Bucha's building site.

Explains this is a project.

That will help.

Prepare Ukraine.

For the future:

“Because reconstruction is.

Not just about rehousing people.”

 

In March 2022.

Invading ‘orcs’ troops.

Occupied the ‘elves’ town.

Of Bucha outside Kyiv.

Leaving a trail of.

Death and destruction.

Which shocked.

The world.

Two years after.

Their departure.

You have gone.

Back to see.

How its traumatised.

Residents are.

Trying to return.

To normal life.

 

“No country knows.

How to do reconstruction.

On the level.

Needed here in Ukraine.”

He says, “We need to learn.

Not only how to manage that;

We also need to learn.

How to make it transparent.”

The building work is part of.

Efforts to restore Bucha.

From the ruins left by.

Retreating ‘orcs’ soldiers.

When ‘elves’ forces retook the town.

They discovered bodies.

Strewn in Yablunska Street.

Where they had been shot.

It was the first the outside world.

Knew of the horrors.

Bucha had endured.

During 33 days of occupation.

Yablunska Street and the area.

Around has been cleaned.

Spruced up and.

In some places rebuilt.

 

In March 2022.

Invading ‘orcs’ troops.

Occupied the ‘elves’ town.

Of Bucha outside Kyiv.

Leaving a trail of.

Death and destruction.

Which shocked.

The world.

Two years after.

Their departure.

You have gone.

Back to see.

How its traumatised.

Residents are.

Trying to return.

To normal life.

 

When ‘elves’ forces retook the town.

They discovered bodies.

Strewn in Yablunska Street.

Where they had been shot.

“We have a moral obligation.

To support the families.

Who live on that street.”

Explains the local mayor.

“Because more than.

70 civilians.

Were brutally killed.

And tortured there.”

Yablunska Street and the area.

Around has been cleaned.

Spruced up and.

In some places rebuilt.

But the ‘orcs’ took over.

“Almost every yard or house”.

The mayor estimates the total cost.

Of repair at €1.6bn.

“Of course we don't have this sum.

But we are doing whatever.

We can to return people.

To their houses.”

 

In March 2022.

Invading ‘orcs’ troops.

Occupied the ‘elves’ town.

Of Bucha outside Kyiv.

Leaving a trail of.

Death and destruction.

Which shocked.

The world.

Two years after.

Their departure.

You have gone.

Back to see.

How its traumatised.

Residents are.

Trying to return.

To normal life.

 

As she walks around.

Bucha's building site.

Explains this is a project.

That will help.

Prepare Ukraine.

For the future:

“It's about who we will be.

After this war.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)
A POET IN HOSTOMEL

 

It is easy to miss.

The killing spot.

At first.

In the gloom.

But in a cold.

Damp basement.

On the edge.

Of the woods.

That made Bucha.

A popular.

Get-away spot.

Before the war.

Five ‘elves’ men.

Were forced.

To their knees and.

Shot in the head.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

To the right of the entrance.

There are stones.

Coated in blood that.

Has turned dark red.

Lying among that.

Is a blue woollen hat.

With an exit hole.

In one side.

And its rim soaked.

In blood.

In the wall, you counted.

At least a dozen bullet holes.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

A couple of steps away.

Are the remains of.

An ‘orcs’ military.

Ration pack.

An open can of.

Rice porridge with beef.

And an empty packet.

Of crackers.

A name daubed in graffiti.

On a wall is.

A reminder that the scene.

Is a children's camp.

But when ‘orcs’ troops.

Moved into Bucha.

Just outside the capital.

In early March.

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

The story of.

The summer camp killings.

Is chilling but.

So is this detail:

More than 1,000 civilians.

Were killed in the Bucha region.

During a month.

Under ‘orcs’ occupation.

But most did not die.

From shrapnel or shelling.

More than 650 were.

Shot dead by ‘orcs’ soldiers.

Now Ukraine is searching.

For their killers.

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

He lived in Hostomel.

Just up the road.

From Bucha and.

Near the airfield.

Where the first ‘orcs’ forces.

Landed to try.

To overthrow.

‘Elves’ government.

When his sister decided to flee.

Before the fighting reached her.

She pleaded with him.

To join her.

He was a civilian.

Not a soldier.

But he wanted.

To stay and help.

So he spent the days.

Searching Hostomel.

For food and water.

To bring to neighbours.

Including children.

Who were trapped in.

Their cellars by the constant shelling.

And ‘orcs’ airstrikes.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

A chatty 34-year-old.

Who had travelled.

The world.

In the merchant navy.

He phoned his family.

From Hostomel most days.

To reassure them.

He was safe.

His sister would wait nervously.

For his brief calls:

She knew he had to move.

To higher ground.

To get a connection.

And if the shelling was heavy.

It was impossible to leave.

The bomb shelter.

As supplies ran low.

She urged her brother.

To try to escape but by then.

The roads were blocked.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

The last time.

His sister heard.

From him was.

On 8 March.

He wasn't the demonstrative type.

But that day.

He told his sister.

Not to worry about him.

“He said.

‘I really love you.’

And that was.

So painful to hear.”

His sister sobs.

Rubbing her eyes hard.

But unable to stop.

The tears.

“There was fear.

In his voice.”

Four days later.

He was spotted by neighbours.

Close to Promenystyi.

As it's known here.

Or Camp Radiant.

Then he disappeared.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

In March, the fighting.

Around Kyiv was intense.

And the small town of Bucha.

Was at the epicentre.

The withdrawal of ‘orcs’ troops.

In early April.

Revealed scenes.

That shocked the world:

The bodies of residents.

Slumped in the streets.

Where they'd been shot.

Where they'd been shot.

‘Elves’ investigators are busy.

Collecting the hard evidence.

On territory now back.

Under their control.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

“We don't know.

What ‘the One’’s plans are.

So we are working.

As quickly as possible.”

“In case he drops a bomb.

And destroys all the proof.”

Says Kyiv regional police chief.

That evidence includes a field.

Full of civilian cars pierced.

With multiple bullet holes.

Now piled up.

On the edge of Bucha.

They are vehicles.

That were shot.

At when families.

Tried to flee.

One still has.

A length of.

White cloth.

At the window.

Hung to show.

The soldiers that.

Its occupants were.

No threat.

Step too close.

And you catch.

The sickly smell.

Of death.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

When the bodies.

Beneath Camp Radiant.

Were discovered.

On 4 April.

He was among them.

His sister had spent weeks.

Frantically calling.

Hospitals and morgues.

That day she was sent.

A photograph to identify.

She knew it was.

Her brother.

Before it had even.

Downloaded.

“I hate them with.

Every cell of my being.”

His sister cries.

About his killers.

“I know that's wrong.

To say about people.”

“But they are not human.

There was not one patch.

On those men's bodies.

That was not beaten.”

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

The five men had been found.

Crouching on their knees.

Heads down and hands bound.

Behind their backs.

“We know they had been tortured.”

The police chief said.

“The ‘orcs’ army has crossed.

The line of how war is conducted.”

“They were not fighting.

The military in Ukraine.

They were kidnapping and.

Torturing the civilian population.”

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

From a common grave.

Beneath the children's camp.

He has now been given.

A proper burial.

Beneath the cherry blossom.

In the old cemetery of Bucha.

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

After his funeral.

His sister says she finally saw.

His face in her dreams again.

As if he were comforting her.

But she still has many questions.

The cross on his grave.

Is marked only with.

His birthday.

Not the date of his death.

Because the family.

Have no idea.

When he was shot.

They may never know.

Unless the ‘orc’ commander.

Who took over Camp Radiant.

Can be found.

 

What happened?

At a children's summer camp?

Camp Radiant became.

An execution ground.

 

Like everyone in Bucha.

Though, they do know that.

Civilians are not only.

Caught up in this war.

They are being targeted.

By ‘orcs’ soldiers.

Who either don't know.

The rules of war, or don't care.

Since ‘orcs’ forces.

Were pushed back from Kyiv.

At the end of March.

In 2022.

The bodies of more than.

1,000 civilians.

Have been discovered.

In the Bucha region.

Many hastily buried.

In shallow graves.

Around 650 people.

Were shot.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET ESCAPING FROM CAMP RADIANT

“I calculated that.

I had more chance of surviving.

Under shelling than.

If I stayed in that cellar.”

“They'd already.

Put the gun to my head.

What would it cost them.

To pull the trigger?”

Across the road.

From Camp Radiant.

Behind a church spattered.

With shrapnel damage.

A corner of Bucha.
Is slowly showing.

Renewed signs.

Of life.

Young boys run.

Around the yard.

While a man fixes sheets.

Of wood to windows.

Shattered when.

The town was.

Being shelled.

Constantly.

And a little shop has.

Just reopened to serve.

Others now trickling back.

To begin their own repairs.

As neighbours cross paths.

They discuss the days.

When ‘orcs’ tanks rolled.

Into their town.

The soldiers who would shoot wildly.

And those who roamed the streets.

Drunk, breaking into homes.

And stealing from them.

And they remember.

The local man.

Who escaped to.

Their block of flats.

From the summer camp.

Opposite.

And who they had sheltered.

Despite the risk.

He didn't know.

Camp Radiant before.

But all the details.

He gives match up.

It was early March.

When he was grabbed.

By ‘orcs’ soldiers.

On the street.

They tied his hands.

And pulled his hat.

Down over his eyes.

Then dragged him.

To a cellar.

That he's sure was.

On the grounds of.

The children's camp.

As neighbours cross paths.

They discuss the days.

When ‘orcs’ tanks rolled.

Into their town.

The soldiers who would shoot wildly.

And those who roamed the streets.

Drunk, breaking into homes.

And stealing from them.

And they remember.

The local man.

Who escaped to.

Their block of flats.

From the summer camp.

Opposite.

And who they had sheltered.

Despite the risk.

There, the ‘orcs’.

Poured water.

Over his legs.

So he would freeze.

And they held a gun.

To his head.

“They kept saying.

‘Where's the fascists?”

“‘Where's the troops?

Where's ‘Gandalf the Green’?’

One of them.

Mentioned ‘the One’.”

“So I said.

Something rude.

And he hit me.”

He recalls.

He remembers.

Being angry.

At his captors.

As well as terrified.

He had worked.

In Moscow.

In the past.

With men from Siberia.

And was horrified.

That ‘orcs’ could now.

Treat him.

With such brutality.

Even more so.

When one of the soldiers.

Revealed that he, too.

Was from Siberia.

And they remember.

The local man.

Who escaped to.

Their block of flats.

From the summer camp.

Opposite.

And who they had sheltered.

Despite the risk.

He told the soldier.

He was sad.

Things had come to this.

“The sad thing is that.”

“Our grandfathers fought.

Together against the Nazis.

And now you're the fascists.”

Was the ‘orc’’s angry reply.

“He told me:

‘You have until the morning.

To remember.

what you've seen.’”

“‘And if not.

You'll be shot.’”

That night, he got lucky.

There was heavy shelling.

And when he realized.

His captors were.

No longer guarding him.

He ran for his life.

And they remember.

The local man.

Who escaped to.

Their block of flats.

From the summer camp.

Opposite.

And who they had sheltered.

Despite the risk.

“I calculated that.

I had more chance of surviving.

Under shelling than.

If I stayed in that cellar.”

“They'd already.

Put the gun to my head.

What would it cost them.

To pull the trigger?”

Camp Radiant is.

Decorated with mosaics.

Of happy children playing.

Now it's a crime scene.

“We are working on it.

But it's not a quick thing.”

Kyiv regional police chief is.

Working fast to gather evidence.

“But that camp was.

A headquarters.

So there would have been.

A commander.”

“The soldiers could not.

Have executed anyone.

Without the commander's.

Knowledge.”

“So we will first.

Find the organisers.

And then look for.

The implementers.”

As neighbours cross paths.

They discuss the days.

When ‘orcs’ tanks rolled.

Into their town.

The soldiers who would shoot wildly.

And those who roamed the streets.

Drunk, breaking into homes.

And stealing from them.

And they remember.

The local man.

Who escaped to.

Their block of flats.

From the summer camp.

Opposite.

And who they had sheltered.

Despite the risk.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET WITH A PRAM

 

The fact that we evacuated.

Is a blessing.

But my soul and thoughts.

Are with Bucha.

And with all.

The heroic cities.

With the people.

Who are trapped.

With the children.

Who should not.

Be involved.

In the war at all.

 

Those were terrible days.

When neither your yard.

Nor your house.

Belongs to you.

Nor even your life.

Belongs to you.

There is no electricity.

Water, gas.

It was forbidden.

To go out.

If you did.

They would shoot you.

Enemy vehicles.

Drove into our yard.

On 5 March.

They broke the windows.

On 5 March.

They broke the windows.

Broke in and.

Took the phones.

On 6 March.

They took my father.

And my husband.

For interrogation.

They found correspondence.

And calls to the Territorial Defense.

We tried to leave and learn.

A little about the situation.

They watch everything.

Posts, telegram channels.

And if you write something.

They don't like, you're dead.

They shoot people.

Around the house.

What a terrible sound.

You just sit in the basement.

And pray for your family.

To come back.

And we were lucky.

There was a commander.

Who loves children.

And knowing that.

My three-year-old daughter.

Was in the basement.

He ordered to.

Move the vehicles.

And not to frighten her.

They brought food.

They brought water.

And sweets for the kids.

Our men were returned.

They could not prove their guilt.

‘Trolls’ had gone.

Before this group of soldiers.

A little earlier and.

Miraculously passed our house.

The commander said that.

If they had entered.

We would not.

Have been there.

They are taking revenge for.

The earlier broken convoy.

And do not even know.

Whom to kill.

We were lucky.

We were lucky.

The next three days.

Passed in the cold.

We sat in the basement.

In terrible fear.

And to the sound.

Of shelling.

People who had fled.

From Hostomel were brought.

Into the house.

15 people.

We tried to feed everyone.

If it wasn't for my dad.

We would have sat.

All hungry.

On 10 March.

We heard on the radio.

That the green corridor.

Was opening from 9 o'clock.

And we realised that.

We had to get out.

We asked them if.

We could take the baby out.

They said no.

Not by car.

It would be a firing squad.

We decided to walk.

A pram, a white flag.

A minimum of stuff.

We drove round.

The corpses of civilians.

How many of them.

There were.

Which had been lying.

There for days.

I did not explain.

Anything to the child.

Because I did not.

Know how.

There were ‘orcs’.

In almost every yard.

Suddenly, the command.

“Freeze!” sounded.

And we froze.

With our hands up.

And our daughter.

Raised her hands too.

We missed two checkpoints.

And at the third one.

We were not allowed.

To pass.

They turned us back.

And said that the corridor.

Would open at 3pm.

Desperate.

We went back and waited.

One more attempt.

We could not look back.

Only forward.

A car with civilians flied out.

In front of us.

Hit a mine.

And blew up.

There was almost nothing.

Left of the car.

The road ahead.

Was mined.

The men were in front.

I was in the back.

With the pram.

Through mines.

Through corpses.

Through broken equipment.

And then through the swamp.

We made our way to freedom.

Finally we were met.

By our soldiers and.

Handed over to the guys from.

The Ministry of Emergency Situations.

We got on buses.

And drove off.

We arrived at an ‘orcs’ checkpoint.

And waited for 4 hours.

The news was bad.

They wouldn't let us in.

We had to spend the night.

In the bus right on the road.

Not many people knew about.

These humanitarian corridors.

At these checkpoints.

And they pissed them off.

Meanwhile.

It was getting dark.

And rockets started.

Flying over us.

We found a basement.

Women and children.

Went there.

It was -10 outside.

The sewage system.

In the basement burst.

And in this stench.

Horror and cold.

We sat until morning.

In the morning again.

Our military negotiated.

To let us through.

And this time.

We were lucky.

And this time.

We were lucky.

One last push.

An enemy roadblock.

My heart sank.

They could fire at any moment.

And we drove into.

The territory controlled.

By our troops.

We are safe for now.

But the psyche is blown.

We have changed.

Nothing will ever be.

The same again.

We try to.

Communicate normally.

Even joke.

A little.

 

But when you close.

Your eyes.

You immediately.

See the road.

Full of corpses.

And how we freeze.

With our hands up.

Waiting for their decision.

 

The fact that we evacuated.

Is a blessing.

But my soul and thoughts.

Are with Bucha.

And with all.

The heroic cities.

With the people.

Who are trapped.

With the children.

Who should not.

Be involved.

In the war at all.

 

But when you close.

Your eyes.

You immediately.

See the road.

Full of corpses.

And how we freeze.

With our hands up.

Waiting for their decision.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET CONFESSING

 

I left Bucha.

On the second day.

But my parents and sisters.

Remained there.

They were held captive.

For four days.

‘Orcs’ took people prisoner.

As human shields.

For 6 people.

‘Orcs’ gave.
1 can of pate and.

1.5 litres of water.

Dad stood in a line.

For the firing squad.

Miraculously he was.

Taken out of there.

And 10 guys were.

Stripped and shot.

On 11 March.

My family was released.

They were walking.

Down the street.

Stepping over.

The corpses of civilians.

I left Bucha.

On the second day.

But my parents and sisters.

Remained there.

They were held captive.

For four days.

‘Orcs’ took people prisoner.

As human shields.

There had been no gas.

Light or water.

In the city.

For a month.

Our neighbourhood was occupied.

And people were not allowed out.

Those who dared to.

Go outside were shot.

My parents say that.

Among the occupants.

There were ‘orcs’.

Buryats and Belarusians.

They robbed houses.

Put their tanks in courtyards.

They were all young.

About 18-20 years old.

When asked why they came.

An ‘orc’ answered that.

They came to liberate.

‘Elves’ from the Bandera.

And a Belarusian.

Answered that.

they were just.

Following orders.

I left Bucha.

On the second day.

But my parents and sisters.

Remained there.

They were held captive.

For four days.

‘Orcs’ took people prisoner.

As human shields.

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET SEEING WITH OWN EYES

 

I was visiting my son.

In Bucha.

And that's where.

I saw the war.

The ‘orcs’ occupiers came.

To us on 3 March.

We hid in the basement.

Of the house.

We were very scared.

We didn't know.

What to do.

We just sat and waited.

In the evening.

We heard that they started.

Breaking the windows.

Of a neighbouring house.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

We realised that.

They were looters.

They wanted to.

Steal something.

All night long.

We listened to.

These sounds of them.

Breaking windows.

And taking things.

Out of houses.

We sat there.

Until the morning.

It seemed to us that.

They had gone further.

Into the city.

And then the question arose.

Of what to eat.

How to cook.

And how to live.

In general.

And how to live.

In general.

There was no electricity.

Or gas in the city.

The ‘orcs’ set up.

A base not far.

From our house.

Half a kilometre away.

But people came out.

Of their houses.

And started cooking.

On the fire.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

Then the occupiers.

Brought artillery.

And began to shell Irpin.

I saw it with my own eyes.

There is a new.

Residential complex there.

And it is clearly visible.

From our neighbourhood.

Bombs were flying there.

It's a good thing.

I didn't listen to.

The matchmaker.

Who called me.

And told me.

To move.

To Irpin.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

Our district was.

Not so bombed.

But the shells.

Were still coming.

We had a neighbour.

The rocket hit.

A neighbouring building.

And a shrapnel tore.

And a shrapnel tore.

off her leg.

It was her son's.

Birthday that day.

To avoid scaring him.

She endured the pain.

And bandaged.

Her leg herself.

I called the doctors.

But they said that.

They would not go.

To the war zone.

She survived.

Until the morning.

And then died.

Of blood loss.

Four days later.

I asked her son.

What was wrong.

With his mother.

He said his mother.

Had died and.

Had been lying at home.

All this time.

We dug a grave.

Right in the garden.

And buried it.

Right in the garden.

We generally tried to.

Bury those we found.

Lying on the roads.

As much as possible.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

Civilians were.

Killed every day.

The feeling was that.

They were taking out.

Their anger.

At the fact that.

Their equipment was.

Being bombed on people.

At some point they started.

Patrolling the streets.

Entering houses.

Checking phones.

They found a photo.

On one guy's phone.

They didn't like it.

And shot him.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

The next day.

They went to.

The most extreme house.

On the street.

Near which barricades were built.

They ordered the man.

To come out of the house.

And asked him:

“You have barricades here.

Did you help build them?”

And without waiting for.

An answer, they shot him.

Brave local guys were.

Delivering water in their cars.

The occupiers did not like it.

And shot them.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

The woman was.

Cooking outside.

In the yard.

Of her house.

She saw the ‘orcs’.

Got scared.

Ran to the entrance.

Closed the door.

And they opened fire.

On her with machine guns.

They killed her.

Through the door.

I was visiting my son.

In Bucha.

And that's where.

I saw the war.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

I don't know who.

They are fighting against.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET STOPPED ON TARASIVKA STREET

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

At around 11:00.

On 17 March.

He and his father.

Were cycling.

To Bucha's.

Administration building.

Where aid was being.

Handed out.

Electricity, gas and.

Water had been cut.

And essentials were.

In short supply in the town.

One of the first.

To be occupied by ‘orcs’ forces.

As they advanced on.

‘Elves’ capital Kyiv.

He and his father.

Hoped to pick up.

Some medicine.

And food.

An ‘orc’ soldier stopped.

Him and his father.

On Tarasivska St.

They immediately raised their hands.

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

Speaking by phone.

Alongside his mother.

The 14-year-old gave his account.

Of what happened next.

“We told them that.

We weren't carrying any weapons.

And that we didn't.

Pose any danger.”

“Then my father turned.

His head my way.

And that's when.

He got shot…”

“He was shot twice.

In the chest.

Right where the heart is.

Then he fell.”

At that point.

The soldier shot him.

In his left hand.

And he fell too.

While he was.

On the ground.

He was shot again.

This time in the arm.

“I was lying.

On my stomach.

I couldn't see anything.

That was happening around me.”

The soldier shot again.

Aiming at his head.

“But the bullet went.

Through my hood.”

The soldier shot again.

This time at his father's head.

But his father was.

Already dead.

“I had a small panic attack.

Lying there with my wounded arm.

Underneath me.

I saw that my hand was bleeding.”

It was only after a while.

When the soldier went.

Behind a tank.

That he got up and ran.

He and his father.

Were trying to get.

Humanitarian aid when.

An ‘orc’ soldier stopped them.

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

In Bucha alone.

Bodies of dead men were found.

Lying in the street.

Many with extensive wounds.

Some had been shot through.

The temple, as if executed.

Others had their hands or legs.

Tied behind their backs.

Some had clearly been.

Run over by tanks.

Many of the bodies were seen.

Along a stretch of Yablonska St.

Just 2km.

From the street where.

His father is said to.

Have been killed.

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

His mother said how.

She had gone to see her husband.

After the teenager returned home.

And told her what had happened.

His mother thought he.

Could be wrong and.

That his father was wounded.

In need of medical help.

“My son begged me not to.”

His mother said.

“He said they would.

Kill me too.”

When she tried to walk.

Down the street.

Her neighbours.

Stopped her.

“They told me not to go further.

Saying the ‘orcs’ were killing.

Everyone in the territories.

Under their control.”

The next morning.

She got her mother to help.

Wearing white scarves.

They went to the site of the shooting.

Her mother talked.

To ‘orcs’ soldiers.

And they managed.

To get through.

They finally collected.

Her husband's body.

And brought it home.

They finally brought it home.

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

A photograph of.

The partially covered body.

Taken by her appears.

To confirm the boy’s testimony.

It shows a gunshot.

Wound to the left side.

Of the chest.

Near the heart.

The boy’s father, a lawyer.

Was 49.

When he was killed.

He was "active in the community.”

The boy’s mother said.

“He couldn't just sit.

In the shelter.

And wait.”

“So, he was volunteering.

And helping people.”

They buried him.

In the garden of the family home.

He and his father.

Were trying to get.

Humanitarian aid when.

An ‘orc’ soldier stopped them.

He said the soldier who killed.

His father was clearly ‘orc’.

The soldier’s uniform was dark green.

He said, typical of the ‘orcs’ army.

“I saw that.

On his flak jacket.

It was written ‘Mordor’.

In the ‘orcs’ language.”

 

“We were no danger.

To the military.

We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.”

“We were civilians.

Wearing white scarves.

To show that.”

“It's very stupid.”

 

 

 

 

 

Kurama

(Japan)

A POET EMERGING

 

From a block.

You had thought was empty.

A woman emerged.

From her damaged flat.

Its walls covered.

In scorch marks.

“They were bombing.

Here for a month.”

“And everything.

Got burnt.”

Said the woman.

Who's 71.

Extraordinarily.

She stayed in her flat.

Throughout the terrifying.

Battle for Bucha.

 

She is one of very few.

Residents who have remained.

In her apartment block.

Throughout the war.

The task of reconstruction.

Is expected to be.

The biggest of its kind.

Since World War Two.

But the government hopes.

A flagship project in Bucha.

A town shattered.

At the start of the war.

But the government hopes.

A flagship project in Bucha.

Will show new standards for.

Transparency have been set.

Nearly two years ago.

This town became a byword.

For some of the worst atrocities.

Of ‘orcs’ full-scale invasion.

‘Orcs’ occupying forces.

Are accused of.

Killing about.

500 people.

A nine-storey Soviet-era block.

Caught in the cross-fire.

Between the two armies.

Has become a building site.

Most of the 330 residents.

Have gone.

Scattered across Ukraine.

Or abroad.

And they will.

Only return.

When the work is complete.

Next spring.

But the rebuilding of.

The Bucha apartments.

Is intended to show that.

The country can “build back better”.

And that means.

Not just more modern homes.

Designed according to.

Residents' wishes.

But also projects.

Funded monitored.

and accounted for.

In the most open way.

 

From a block.

You had thought was empty.

A woman emerged.

From her damaged flat.

Its walls covered.

In scorch marks.

“They were bombing.

Here for a month.”

“And everything.

Got burnt.”

Said the woman.

Who's 71.

Extraordinarily.

She stayed in her flat.

Throughout the terrifying.

Battle for Bucha.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Read more:

"Aware of a poet?

(Kurama)

 

 

 

Вірші про Україну

Думки українських поетів про рідну країну, їхні відчуття до української землі і нашого народу — все це юні читачі зможуть знайти в представленій добірці віршів про Україну від Ганни Черінь, Юрка Шкрумеляка, Наталки Талиманчук, Іванни Савицької, Уляни Кравченко, Яни Яковенко, Василя Симоненка, Івана Франка, Володимира Сосюри, Катерини Перелісної, Богдана-Ігоря Антонича, Марійки Підгірянки, Миколи Чернявського, Володимира Сіренка, Іванни Блажкевич, Грицька Бойка, Миколи Вінграновського, Платона Воронька, Наталі Забіли,  Анатолія Камінчука, Анатолія Качана,  Володимира Коломійця, Тамари Коломієць, Ліни Костенко, Андрія Малишка, Андрія М’ястківського, Івана Неходи, Бориса Олійника, Дмитра Павличка, Максима Рильського, Вадима Скомаровського, Сосюра Володимир, Павла Тичини, Петра Осадчука, Варвари Гринько та інших відомих українських поетів.

 

 

Дуже корисними для вивчення іноземних мов є саме вірші, пісні, казки, римівки, а також ігри. Природнім шляхом діти розвивають слух, навчаються вимові, інтонації та наголосу; вивчають слова та мовні структури. Пісні та римівки чудово сприймаються дітьми, малята люблять усе ритмічне та музичне, вони засвоюють це легко та швидко, тому що дістають від цього задоволення.