Навіщо. What For

***

The black-and-white winter is treacherously surrendering barricades,

To wash out the baked blood from cobblestones, with water streams,

Though Kievites have got used to explosions and barrage,

To sleepless nights and closed Metro stations.

Not looking for seats, offices, medals or glory,

With a self-made shield and a Red Cross on the shield,

This lad puts on a balaclava under a scooter helmet,

And goes on patrol as you have to go on patrol.

To be continued, of course, as it's still far away from the victory.

But it's already the turning point. And the victory's nearing.

Storks will return from faraway lands to their nests in May:

So before this you have to be able to wash the sooth away.

10 March 2014