this is bayrakhtara tatyana, these dragonflies, flying time, we are waiting for them and they are burningiery carrion on donetsk land. these are sunflowers. i call it russian van gog when our soldier, our infantryman, stands among these heavenly flowers, and they, as it were, reveal to us the whole secret of his consciousness, his souls did not fight , the chronicle was written. with prayer they wrote and with love one line melted steel another line of righteous blood. i have lived little in my lifetime and i will no longer see your eyes. i pulled out a pin from a grenade and wait for them to come closer . and i had to see and be she can be warriors of battles. this is the first war that's gone from me, it is that they will reach out in their weakness and in their infirmities, but i reach out to her with my poems and my drawings now is the time of artists. now is the time of brave artists now is the time of desperate artists now is the time of artists who tear their shirts on their chests because they are tearing their shirts on their chests. i said russia lives on the chest of the shirt