***
The stones of memories, warmed by the sun cools down.
Summer, like a shadow from a sundial,
reminds a happy times. Where is she? Did she
hide in a matchbox? Open it
and the days are like logs floating down a river,
will take you to the past, to your native shores,
and moistened matches will wait their time
and will warm the heart with red heat.
The war goes on.The war goes on.War runs.War flies.Today I rememberwith what passionin my childhoodwe…
Yesterday, Oleksandr Korotko received a letter to his personal mail, which mentioned the intention of…
Olexandr Korotko is constantly working on new works, which we regularly publish in the relevant…
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