https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PoRiwb4oB8E
We instantly grew up this awful summer day -
The end of June, the nineteen forty one.
The freedom, childhood gone at once away -
And bloody red became new color of the sun.
We do remember: bombing, fire, death,
And suffered all the time from constant fears,
Together reading letters from the front, without breath,
And heard the mother whisper prays for us and fighting dears.
The poor little refugees acquired many “dreadful friends” -
Diseases, endless hunger, chilling cold, abuse.
Though on the other side - pure kindness makes amends,
And hearty people tried the wartime miseries reduce.
The memory still holds for better or for worse,
But we survived in horror – that`s the truth.
For peaceful sky, for life itself – off course,
We`re always thanking God, when cherish our youth.
Children of War
© Copyright: Михаэль Урин, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122032400411
Свидетельство о публикации №122032400411
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