Foreword: Over 40 children have died in Novorossiya to date as a result of the relentless and ruthless artillery shelling of cities, towns, villages, and settlements by the Ukrainian army. The Ukrainian government admits only 4 such deaths. The poem below was written and read by those children who survive. Read it along with them, when the video shows children’s drawings.
Translated by Gleb Bazov Children of Slavyansk
And I was killed in Slavyansk-town Меня убили под Славянском.
When I hit only seven years. Мне было семь неполных лет.
My mom and dad along with me, Со мной убиты мама с папой,
My grandma, grandpa perished Убиты бабушка и дед.
I was in pain, in so much pain, Мне было больно, очень больно.
The kind of pain a kid can’t know. Так не бывает у детей.
So tell me, soldier, who shot me, Скажи солдат, в меня стрелявший,
What will you tell your daughter now? Что скажешь дочери своей?
Will you give her my favourite toys? Отдашь ли ей мои игрушки?
Will you give her my album too? Отдашь с рисунками альбом?
My kitten with my blood on him? Отдашь в крови моей котёнка?
What will you find inside her eyes? Как взглянешь ей в глаза потом?
So, tell me soldier, who shot me, Скажи солдат, меня убивший,
Which Gods do you obey and praise? Каким ты молишься Богам?
Whose altar will you bring me to? Кому принёс ребёнка в жертву?
Which temple will receive your loot? В какой отдашь добычу храм?
I died, and now I’ll never cry. Я умерла, и я не плачу.
A tear is frozen on my cheek. Застыла на щеке слеза.
Remember, foe, that shot me dead, Запомни враг, в меня стрелявший,
The eyes of daughter that you killed. Убитой дочери глаза.
SLAVYANGRAD.org 
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