POEMS BY Irina Bakovetska-Rachkovska

* * * This war, like the fifth season of the year,So many new prayers! So many new cursesThat the seventh knee will not bow down,Can’t bear the supplication!Village cellars, dripping with slugs,Have become churchesWhere children and old women are placed in rowsUnder the holy omophorion of the oak lid:They are not so alone,They are not lonely – The Lord […]

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