Vyacheslav Konoval, Voice from Ukraine

1. Dry tears


In the September morning fog

caustic clouds of smoke steamed up,

from the exhaust pipes of family minivans,

cars stretched along the side of the road,

column, similar to a playful domestic snake.


The birds became silent, stunned,

a leper projectile flew in with lightning

remains smoldering in the abyss,

the devil cooks a proud cauldron.


The destinies of hundreds of people have been ruined,
life 30 forever broken,

took away the enemy’s fluttering lives,

whose souls have gone to heaven.


Blood runs like ants through the body,

and saliva is not swallowed,

feet get cold, language is taken away.



2. In a concrete abyss


The sounds of crickets echoed,

the warm summer flew away in a whirlwind,

the whistling of a burning core rushes into the house

where the little princess is sleeping.


There was life, innocence was taken from mother’s milk,

that froze in a concrete coffin,

a gray smoky avalanche arose,

the spot turns red and wet in the corner,

take away, O God, the enemies into the rotten pit.



3. A lustful sycophant


A hideous smile glistens in the sun,

a hand pats the shoulder,

which without diamonds and rings

a two-meter figure pulls up his pants.


Here is the order from the manager ready,

with the order comes a flattering,

lustful woman, apparently,

born in the Scorpio constellation.


Why sign what You don’t want?

That You have always avoided?

Sharing funds is a noble cause,

And when You should sign the paper…

Do you see the hand stopping You?


You drive the messenger to me!

Don’t you want to show Your power?

You are afraid, lustful creep

return the paper to me.