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Yuri Vynnychuk
The fourth one takes a violin
into his hands, stands next to
them and listens closely. The
sound of the dogs barking is
already above their heads; the
fire in the hideout is burning
out, and tiny sparks jump
across the burnt documents
and disappear in the air.
Upstairs,
the
command
demanding surrender can
already be heard. The men
don’t react; their eyes are
riveted to the grenades. They
shudder just as they hear
despairing women’s voices
appealing to them, cursing
them, imploring. Their voices
squeeze out tears from their
eyes, but they refuse to give
in; they know all too well
what awaits them.
A hand with the bow touches
a violin, and the melody of
a tango resounds. Now the
barking of dogs and human
voices are forced to burst
through that melody, and
not only through the melody,
but also through the singing
– the four men are singing
something really quietly.
And then the hand of one of
them stretches to the pile of
grenades....
1
Whenwe are young, we all are
nobody, not even the greatest
geniuses, whose careers and
recognition await them in the
future, come into this world
not overly fit for it, that’s why
it’s not unusual that after we
getmarried, we find ourselves
in certain ordeals that rarely
end happily, and rather more
often in the parting of ways.
This was exactly the trap
that Myrko Yarosh fell right
into after he got married to
the sweet and warm Roma
after graduating from the
university. Heused to read the
poetry of great poets aloud
to her, and she pretended