A SURVIVOR FROM PRIPYAT
The dead city of Pripyat
The surviver
I wish to thank Lyubov Sirota for granting me her personal permission to post a selection of her poems on this web site. The English translations are not in the public domain. I must also thank Paul Brians for putting me in touch with Lyubov. Paul explained to me that Lyubov was not in the best of health and that I might find her English limited. From the most helpful email I received in reply to my request I can only say that if her English is limited her ability to communicate is not, as one would expect from a poet of her calibre.
Read her story as told by Adolph Kharash and the poems which will bring a sense of despair and horror to every parent, to every thinking person. Particularly to every Australian at the thought of twenty five nuclear power stations on this island.
Please read the following pages and feel yourself in Lyubov's soul.
Apathy just must not be allowed to reign.
This must not happen here and you and I and others can stop it.
The same Cafe in Pripyat in 1996 by Alexander Sirota ©.
« · - – — WE MUST NOT LET IT RIDE — – - · »
Dust into dust, and under dust to lie,
Sans wine, sans song, sans singer, and—sans end!
Sans wine, sans song, sans singer, and—sans end!