From Wołyń she was

I remember her well,

A young lady from a village in Southeast Poland.

She was intelligent and beautiful,

Caring and passionate.

From Wołyń she was.


A child she had,

I think in '42.

She also had a loving husband,

Remember him as well I do.

From Wołyń they were.


Then 'they' came,

Out of the forests under the cover of the dark,

Donning their armbands,

One half red,

The other black.

Armed with axes, guns and scythes.

They brutally ended my people's lives.

To Wołyń they came.


They butchered my neighbours...

One by one.


That young lady's child...

They crushed his head under their boots.


That young lady's husband...

He was split in two from their axes.


And as for that young lady I knew...

She suffered the same fate.


From Wołyń she was.


But Wołyń she never left.



  • JasmineUK

    Well written and haunting poem.
    Do you recommend the 2016 film Wolyn, as a glimpse into the whole senseless tumult and slaughter?

    • Borys

      100%. Go ahead and watch it. Sorry for the late reply. Been a while since I logged on.

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