We have chosen for you verses about war and war from victory, as if they tell you about the importance of saving peace on the whole Earth.
Memory
And live in the memory of the people
Yogo’s daughters and blues,
Tі, who did not return from the campaigns
of Griznoy, the great war.
Їх life, їх have thought high,
Kotrim was not destined to flourish,
Calling for a clear and calm world,
Like the zіnitsu of the eye, take care.
V. Simonenko
***
Soldiers sleep in the steppes
Under the voloshkovy sky of Europe,
And there is no chance for a rose-coloured happiness between, or a kintsa.
The banks of the Volga and the Dnieper were overgrown with thyme trenches,
Only in the scars of soldiers our hearts grieve
D. Lutsenko
partisans
I am the one who rowed tearing.
I did not sit by the rock,
When the oaks fell for centuries
At the partisan fox donkey
On the stagnant, trampled grass
Lying, covered with purple leaves,
I blood flowed over the drops of crepe binti
A fox man with gray-browed guise
Feeding me: “Why did you break all the bridges?”
P. Voronko
***
My first verse of writing in the trenches,
on that sipky ode of vibukhiv walls,
if the dawn in the horoscope
my childishness has ruined, beaten into war.
Pozhozhі volcanic lava poured.
The house was on fire. Nich was given during the day.
Our crossing
over the Dnipro was flooded with water and fire.
Gula earth. Susidsky crying lad.
The woman was christened, and bread was brewed.
Dvigtіv this vuzesenky foxhole,
de two sіm’ї huddled sprat dib.
Oh, the first bіl is quiet not childish hostility,
what kind of wine is traced on the heart of the flood!
You won’t say like an invisible verse,
why can’t my soul be crushed ?!
It was already neither a bunny, nor a wolf –
a crooked world, the dawn was charred! –
and I wrote little more than a fragment
great letters, just from the primer, –
that first virshik, crouching at the edge,
sob lighted up the night of the war.
What a win, I don’t remember anymore.
The shell fell – the wall hoared.
L. Kostenko
We don’t need war
We don’t need war, we don’t need it –
We are for peace and peace on Earth,
Sob not korshaks in a clear sky,
But cosmic sailing ships,
So that children grow up happily
, I don’t sip the heat of war,
Sob the evil military wind
Bouve the wind of spring.
In the wind of truth and the strength of man –
That strength cannot be healed in centuries –
We are for nothing lakayut war,
Mіts people – in the hands of the people!
We do not need war, we do not need –
We are for calm and peace on Earth.
Schob not Korshaki in a clear sky.
And spaceships fired ships.
M. Umanets
Peremogi Day
They brought paths-roads
Our people to victory.
I soldiers-didusі
Moustache laugh.
Tse holy grass is
holy Required to be vigilant with the heart!
Surprise: in the old soldiers
Slozi gladly shine!
Long live in the earthly world,
there will be peace and happiness for the children,
For the people of the stink
For life, not war.
S. Gordienko
***
We will come again to the eternal fire,
Rocks will never erase the memory
of the quiet, who survived the terrible war,
and is quiet, who is drowned in the arms of death.
Let’s come again to the eternal fire…
From us to come and onuks and children,
For the veterans to bow down to the ground,
To shove their sivin.
Let the Lord grant them summer,
Warmth and calmness, happy days without humours.
Bring the young greenery to the shoroku
Set up stitches with kilim tomorrow.
Memory cards
Kviti – on the granite, on the armor.
The sun smiles at me.
I stand in charge of the veterans,
I take an oath to remembrance.
Veterans in bright blues
And on their chests they place orders.
Memory of the heart …
Memory of the sivin …
Memory is quiet, that
the war did not come,
Memory – first of all, on the armor …
The sun smiles at me.
At Holy Peremoga
At Holy Peremoga
I got up early.
The little spring of spring
Garnenko painted:
Verbicki volokhat,
High sky is clear,
I little sun in the sky
Burn, burn, do not go out.
I’ll go to the last hut
To Baba Yakilin:
Any children she has,
Any relatives.
Vaughn is old and kvola,
Grumpy and sumovit:
In the war, the little titmouse
Under Kharkov was killed.
For our Batkivshchyna
I put my head on my head…
I’ll cherish my grandmother,
I’ll take care of the old one.
Viddam їy sun, sky,
Verbichki volohatі:
Let spring sow
In її samotnіy hut!
L. Company
***
The grassy wounds smile,
The trembling spogadіv, the pressure of the palms…
At the tears of the unrepentant-generous
Znov vibliskuє the fire of eternity.
Ale is the order of the shoulder
of the first child, the eyes of the drinker,
the first soul, in the heart of the trippoche,
What your soul is carrying in the future.
***
The Day of Peremogi is sacred to the sivin
of Our forefathers, children and those who are young.
Navit quiet, who is not a bachiv of war –
Ale її with a krill of chaining the letters of the skin, –
Vitaєmo with the Day of Peremog mi!
Salute to the world
In the days of grass, with dreams of riches,
If you are happy squealing from the song,
We are holy for a long time –
Help the radio day.
I stand at the memory of the road,
Tі, which we happened to pass,
To
proudly carry the crimson ensign of Peremogi Above the Reichstag.
And live in the memory of the people
Yogo’s daughters and blues,
Tі, who did not return from the campaigns
of Griznoy, the great war.
Їх hearts – for centuries of flame
On our red ensigns,
їх dumka – to remake and live
In our creative thoughts and deeds.
Їх life, їх have thought high,
Kotrim was not destined to flourish,
Calling for a clear and calm world,
Like the zіnitsu of the eye, take care.
And to that, if it is holy to come, –
Leather rіk at the grass, hanging, –
Our grіznі battle garmaty
Salute the world – not war!
V. Simonenko
***
Bowing down to the Eternal fire,
Bowing down to the ground to all the soldiers,
Who mortified the roads of the crisis of war,
Sob to us today’s death and kohati.
Long live in the earthly world,
there will be peace and happiness for the children,
For the people of the stink
For life, not war.
***
If history is called,
Our hour is for the people of the people.
For while the heart is alive in us –
We did not stand on knees.
Happy Victory Day!
You will also be told 15 verses by Lina Kostenko about eternal life.
