I notice little Christina sitting on a coach
with her cat Sonya in her arms,
the cat has green eyes and is brown and white
and something draws me to look closer:
where she look like a grandchild that I had,
I am intensely sorry for this little girl
when she and the cat looks at me as if I do know them
and this small child looks so intensely happy,
where she comes out of the steel-factory at Mariupol,
wondrously did survive that intense slaughtering
where Russians came with termobaric weapons
and I wonder how a person do forgive cold-hearted killing?
The picture remains full of heartache and I am sorry for her.
I wonder who will love this lonely girl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem