In memory of the Pope
The grass is not the same without you
And flowers, and trees, and birds...
And the soul shrinks again,
When I read these pages.
You will not meet at the gate now,
When we come to my mother,
Only Boska and Ryzyk the cat
They run out and wag their tails.
Come, well, at least in a dream,
And say, well, at least a word,
Let's sit on our porch,
Let's admire the stars again...
We can drink a hundred grams with you,
We choose our dream ourselves,
I will be happy for you,
Because my mother didn't like them before.
I know you see us from above
So maybe you could say:
How can we live here without you?
How will they get used to a world without a dad?
(V. Davydova 2008)
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