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Panova, Maria
Та скорбная пора как горькая слеза Беззвучно капл...
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By Татьяна Лукашова (мама)

Booker, Sandy Alan
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By Светлана Губарева

Dedicated to Anna Oftayeva Print E-mail
Written by стихов - Мария Микерова   
Понедельник, 26 Марта 2007

Friends never go away alone,

They carry our souls with them.

We light the fires of trembling candles,

While they ask us to be stronger.

Our tears flow like autumn rain,

They fall upon tombstones.

We love them, we hope, we believe, and we wait,

And no one, and nothing, is ever forgotten.

We will not torture our souls –

They have already suffered too much in this world.

Let them melt in the unknown distance,

They remain forever within our hearts.

What awaits us up ahead?  No one will know:

If it is happiness, or the churchyard.

How many lives it took away, how much grief it brought

That terrible day at the ill-starred ‘Nord-Ost’!

We could not help, we did not save you,

Who will now give us the answer to all of it:

Why are we still alive,

But you are no more?

 
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