The first piece in this series I created on 24.03.2022 – after 1 month since Russia started a full-scale war against Ukraine. And as of the day when I’m writing this description (24.04.2022) it is still raping, destroying, killing my homeland. Living in Kharkiv, one of the most bombed cities of Ukraine, between the apartments and the underground bomb shelter, I am writing my «Tablets of Rage» in which I express all my rage and anger towards the Russians. I didn't have a paper of proper size at home and couldn’t buy it, because all the shops were closed and post didn’t work well, so I used old bed linen and other textiles as canvases. These poems I wrote – are my prayers, my magic spells, my incantations to curse the enemy.

I won’t go. I won’t fall. I will stand.
I won’t let you shed my blood.
The only blood you will see will be yours.
Bite me – and you’ll worn your teeth on me.
Tear me – and you’ll crash your claws on me.
Beat me – and you will break yourself.
I will stand. And I am standing.
And you’d better run while you can.

You who trample my land – I curse you.
May every day of yours be a torture.
May the sun burn your eyes,
And the rain flood your face with the acid.
May the daytime heat make your breath suffocating.
And may the night freeze your body to blackness.
May the wind blow on your cheeks to the bloody flesh.
And may no one hear your moan at the rustle of the grass.
May my soil lie on your chest like a granite.
And may it stab on your back with its sharp blades.
And after you die, may it all repeat once again.

Know, my enemy, that we won’t give you
Any forgiveness and any mercy.
Pray to be lucky to receive
An easy death for yourself.
—
I hope that the god exists – any god, or goddess, or gods.
That would mean that the hell exists too.
So you will burn in it
For eternity – and even longer.

From now on, wherever you hide – I will find you.
Wherever you run away – I will come for you.
No matter how fast you run – I will get you.
On the ground, under the water,
At the daytime and in the night,
Even in your dreams, even in your grave –
In no place you will be safe.
I’m here already – standing behind your back.

I am a bullet in the enemy’s heart. I am a tear for the fallen heroes.
I am a joy in honour of those who were saved. I am a mourning for the innocent victims.
I am a firm hand that charges a machine gun. I am a gentle hand that calms a child.
I am the fire that burns everyone who came to destroy my home.
I am the rain washing away from the streets those dirt and blood they have brought.
I am an inevitable punishment. I am the shelter and silence.
I am the victory over death. I am the victory for the sake of life.

I don't know all my ancestors –
Their names were erased by the red millstones.
But these millstones for sure weren’t able 
To wash their memory out of my blood.

I don't know where the history of my family started –
These houses, apparently, have long been gone.
But wherever I am, I feel
As in this black soil my roots keep supporting me.

For a long time I spoke the language which wasn’t mine – 
I used to think it was my native one.
But I always kept in my heart
That language in which I was sang lullabies.

I was never a warrior and never held a weapon,
But with the soil, the song and the memory
I also inherited power
To fight for freedom, which I will bring to an end.

The empire has died.

The empire has rotten
The empire’s remains were covered with quicklime
Into the empire’s chest was driven an aspen stake
The empire has no grave
The empire’s name is forgotten forever.

My Lord

Please give me strength to always remember who I am,
And to resist those who want to force me to become who I am not.

Don't let me ever forget my roots,
But also don't let the past engulf me.

Give me enough rage to keep fighting,
And may pain and anger not poison my soul anymore.

Come to me and do not leave me when I am vulnerable.
Give me the merciful dreams and save me from horrible nightmares.

Amen.

Enemy, enemy

The land is burning — it will burn you

And I am burning too

So I will burn you as well