Translated by Max Nemtsov
The Prayer Dome over Kharkiv
Children very seldom come from Kharkiv. Every time you hug them with the same words, “Call me when you arrive—we’ll see each other by all means.” And every time I see the maturity in them that hadn’t been there before the war. They return to Kharkiv, under bombs and missiles, but it’s their native city over which there’s only a prayer dome of Save and Protect—
The phone is on 86400/7. Every second is worth its weight in life. Every moment is worth the seeing distance when the sight rests upon the sky over the only city in the world where they live despite death, in spite of the silence of a trumped-up humanism that had remained in the oeuvre of philosophical thought. I’ve never been so glad when, barely fallen asleep at one or three in the morning, I receive some text spam instead of an explosion report.
I know: over Kharkiv there is the Prayer Dome!
_ * _
Our neighbor’s dog died. Bulik, a black Labrador, aged 13, a refugee from Avdiivka, of old age and functional changes fit for his age.
He was born in Donbas, changed his residence at 11. It was loud there, very loud. They could barely evacuate him. A beautiful dog. At roadblocks soldiers used to pose with him for their snapshots. Here, the twins were expecting him, the owners’ grandkids, a boy and a girl.
When I brought my Rada here, the Labrador bitch of 3 2 weeks before her 4th birthday, a refugee from Kharkiv, Bulik came to get acquainted with her. Rada didn’t accept his friendship, for a reason—she used to be the queen of the yard of 700 sq m and 10 little fir trees. But here she was brought who knows where—
This was how they were living for 2 years. Out of the neighbor’s opposite door an old dog came out, frequently he was alone, with no owner in sight. My Rada was always on a leash, for she was hell-bent on escaping. As she passed the male dog she barked at him by all means. He was silent and just looked, just looked at her— And we went on—
I didn’t know that our neighbor’s dog died. But Rada with some sadness only she could fathom looked at the open door of our neighbor’s opposite house, as if expecting someone who would never appear now, Bulik the Labrador, aged 13, the refugee from Avdiivka—
The Roll Call of Light
From a phone chat with my son yesterday. “Two missiles are heading your way, be careful.” “It’s OK, don’t wor—” [a b l a s t a n o t h e r o n e Very loud] “Was it near?” “Well, it depends—”
The second call. “Imagine, I was at that spot 15 minutes before the blast—”
When people are born there are two angels present, a light one and a dark one. The one remains by your side that’s more after your own heart. The northern land of dark angels has long been abandoned by the light ones. They have things to do in the south, saving those who live under the shadow of black wings, and more and more often, on their light wings returning the souls to the place where the Light was born— Light angels, save the Light here, don’t be in a hurry to return it, for it’s important for the ones who are born to come to the white light of the wide world and choose you as their companions.
Two o’clock in the morning. The roll call of light. “How are you?” “All is well. Asleep—” That was my son. “Dad, lemme sleep. Fuck them—” That was my daughter.
A Shock Wave
My apartment got it for the second time in the war—
every night till the morning I watch those green dots of my kids o n l i n e after each incoming I pray for them not to blink out this:night at one:thirty my daughter:calls “the earth and windows shook the incoming was a close one” “were you afraid?” ] [ ] [ —— _____ ]
the shock wave blew the window frames out tonight all panes are shards this time there wasn’t any fire this time no one died this time there was no one in the apartment (25 months ago— it was on the Shrove Sunday, this time it was on the Annunciation Day) that time I whistled in the dark, “have to make my way to the city in the morning and carry out everything valuable albums of photos and several books— for they surely won’t attack Kharkiv on the Shrove Sunday, they are Orthodox Christians like us. it’s a sin. there surely will be the day of ceasefire—”
was I naive— that was the day of the most brutal bombing. a lot of casualties a lot of houses burned the subway was fulfilling its main function hiding from bombs the patriarch who edited the commandment to “Do not, murder!” ever since that time when a major religious holiday comes I know, there will be a bombing they say, people who die on those days get to the Lord with no transfers for how much longer this express line will run? how many new saints like this the world needs out of those newly departed murdered innocents who OVER THERE would beg for forgiveness for the sakes of those who wear sackcloth and ashes and each time express their more and more categorical indignation
and just look
and just look
the area where my children used to live is a bedroom community now my daughter lodges in a place not far from an incoming as it was before— she was half a kilometer from the blast
in the morning, her work is downtown there was an incoming there, too “how are you?” “all is well. only everything that was in the cupboard fell to the floor from the blast. and there was some jangling of windows. from the shock wave natch” “are you leaving?” “n o”
The War Murders My Cats
Nyusha was the first to die burnt alive in the apartment when a mortar hit [2012–2022]
Roza was the second at night she went out for a walk through the window leaf and caught herself in a shelling [2007–2022]
Rox was the third to go he was born when the artillery thundered in the combat zone. they saved him and gave him to an animal shelter from where my daughter took him, nursed him. at night he met her coming from work. he fell asleep with his cheek on her cheek. he cried a lot. when he fell very sick at night the vets couldn’t come because of the curfew—
on the first day of his first winter, Rox left for his rainbow. The war was over for him, too. ] Kupyansk : summer—2023—winter : Kharkiv [ when they meet each other on that rainbow what do cats who died in war talk about?