The sirens wake the golden domes, The night gives way to fire and wire; A shadow hums where rivers comb The embers of a tactical desire. The drone wings turn on steady breath, And Kyiv watches from the wall, Where stone and steel contest with death Before the autumn shadows fall. Beyond the ridge, the diplomats Trade bitter notes across the snow; In shuttered rooms where councils sat, The iron gates begin to close. The cultural doors of Goethe swing Shut fast against an icy gale, While northern seas in silence bring An Arctic vessel under bail. Across the east, the pipelines run, The ledger turns its heavy face; Beneath an unremembering sun, New pacts are struck in measured space. The trains roll out with sheltered wheat, The valves are turned against the dark— While far away, down ruined streets, The sky forgets the singing lark.
