Oleksii O. Korobenkov

Dedicated to the bright memory of Senior Lieutenant Oleksiy Korobenkov! You were born on the land of Archangel At a time when the country was still common, But life was so developed in the family, That Ukraine became your native land. As a baby, you heard a singing language And you saw the blue peaceful sky from an early age. The endless fields started a conversation About this wonderful silence at dawn. A serious illness took away your father, When you were only three years old. That mother tenderly hugged the children In dark, overcast, cruel days. Having become an adult at only ten years old, He took all the hard work on himself. He did everything properly, He took care of his sister and mother. Loved his native Ukraine infinitely, Its people, villages, and cities. And firmly decided at the graduation hour To be a soldier and defend the land. Study in Kharkiv, soldier's everyday life… Finally, the dream has come true: Alyosha is a lieutenant, brave, wise. Ahead is a life, beautiful, without end. And then - everything quickly, as if in a kaleidoscope: Appointment, undeclared war, Crimea, frontline, Donbas, Savur - Mohila And the news is black that Alyosha is no longer there. Neither mother's nor sister's hopes will come true, Their son and the brother will not return. Him, born far away in Russia, Insidiously shot by the terrible Russian "Grad". Please forgive us that we were powerless Even if there was something to protect us from trouble. For the fact that you will never become a father again, And the wedding march is not will sound to you But you will always live in the heart of all those who devotedly loved you. We will carry your name in our hearts throughout the ages As long as the golden sun shines

COME TO YOUR MOTHER IN HER DREAMS MORE OFTEN Already the most terrible year has passed since then, As you, my son, are not with me. The birds have already returned from the warm land, And I am eagerly waiting for each of them. I keep waiting for the bird to knock in the window And he will tell that the fatal wound no longer hurts And that there, in the abode of God under the sun, Your heart aches for your mother, as always. You promised rain to fall on our doorstep, Like spring thunder rumbles in my mouth. And I know you, little sun, falcon clear, In every drop of dew I recognize you. And somehow, Alyosha, you dreamed of a little boy, As if it was our turn to shepherd. But all your shoes and boots For some reason, they became almost soaked through. Older people say that I cry a lot, That makes you so uncomfortable in paradise everywhere. But who will give important useful advice, How can a nannie learn to cry without tears? I beg you, my dear child, You come to your mother more often in your dreams. Let a beautiful moment fall out even there, in oblivion: Even if a person should be happy someday!