Укриття (The Shelter)

This poem is based on some recurring nightmares that I have experienced since the day I learned that the war had begun on Thursday, February 24, 2022. Most of them involve hearing the whistling missiles flying overhead while feeling powerless and at the mercy of where it lands. I have prayed the prayer in this poem many times in my sleep during each subsequent nightmare. I look forward to the day when the rockets flying overhead will be exchanged for chirping birds and the explosions will be exchanged bouts of cheerful laughter as it once was.

Сирени лунають, голосно й гостро,
Закривайте двері та йдіть униз,
Під землею, у бункері, страх і тривога,
Слабкий свист над головою, мов вітер віє.

Дитина маленька до батька звертається,
Щоб помолитись разом із ним,
Молитви лунають, мов крик до Бога,
"Не забудь нас, не покидай нас, не забувай нас".

Так молимось ми, коли війна на порозі,
І надії майбутнього немає,
Але віра в серці нашому живе,
І ми знаємо, що не залишимось самі.

English translation:

The sirens sound, loud and sharp,
Close the door and go downstairs
Underground, in the bunker, fear and anxiety,
A faint whistling overhead, like the wind blowing.

A small child turns to his father,
To pray with him,
Prayers sound like a cry to God,
"Do not forget us, do not leave us, do not forget us."

This is how we pray when war is on the horizon,
And there is no hope for the future,
But faith lives in our hearts,
And we know that we will not be alone.