Yurii A. Dudka

My mind refuses to comprehend, And my heart bleeds, with tears — This is not a painful memory of a distant war, This is not an echo of those events through the years. This is our present, this is reality… There lived a simple family — A mother, a father, children: Little ones, boys — Their two hopes — two eagles. They lived, grew up, Lived in friendship and harmony, Parents, of course, worked, And the children grew like water. Kindergarten, school, a wide path Was laid out before the children, Learning, dreams, and work As is usual in life. The sons grew strong and matured, A joy for the mother — two eagles, And for the father — pride and in old age Hope, help — their sons. But treacherously, unexpectedly War came to our land, Into the home came our enemies Those who were brothers to us. To defend the native land Their sons went without hesitation, And they fought gloriously, Bravely defending their homeland… Misfortune crept up unexpectedly In the treacherous flames of war One son received fatal burns In an uneven battle. Everyone hoped for a miracle, The best doctors were there, They prayed to God for the child, But they could not save him. A heavy hour, a moment of parting In the earth their son rests And as a heavenly angel He watches from above. Great sorrow in the family The mother's heart is torn, And here again the thought of the son, About the older one does not leave. And the mother's heart breaks, The pain squeezes the mother's heart Why is there no news From the older son for a long time? All thoughts are terrible and bad She drives away from herself Maybe somewhere he is healing wounds, Maybe memory has failed. The mother has no peace Knocking at the door herself, To get some news about her son … because the war is going on… There are no words to describe, I don't know how to endure this, But the terrible news again Recently came to their home. Their older son died in battle, Did not come out of the "cauldron" in summer Lies in the ground as an unknown On the banks of the Dnipro River… My mind refuses to comprehend, And my heart bleeds, with tears — This is not a painful memory of a distant war, This is not an echo of those events through the years. This is our present, this is reality, this is grief… I would like to ask the "brothers" Why did you not love us? When? Why in our time does a mother bury her eagle sons? Why do parents turn gray from grief? Oh dear God, Almighty Lord, Give strength to the parents to endure this grief, Give UNDERSTANDING to those who started all this, Give UNDERSTANDING to them that no one can be returned… Mama Svitlana Dudka