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The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting it

The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting itThe 22nd of March 2016 was probably one of the worst days in the history of not only Ukraine but of the whole of Europe.

Including Russia. Because it is Europe, too. At least to some extent. Notwithstanding every bloody stain on the country’s reputation. And I think that yesterday night Russia was scared, sad and lonely too. However, this story is not so much about Russia, but about the fact that ...

Yesterday…

There was a funeral of the body of Georgiy Gongadze. For over 15 years it has been laying in the Kiev morgue.
The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting it

Georgiy's mother refused to bury the body, because she didn’t believe that the remains belonged to her son. The mother died. The President of Ukraine Petro Poroshenko gave the widow of the journalist, Miroslava, the Star of the Hero of Ukraine, the award given to Georgiy by Victor Yushchenko. And there was the funeral of the headless body. And the case was closed.

Kuchma, with whom Gongadze (probably) fought, regularly negotiates about something in Minsk. Kravchenko is dead. Litvin is immortal. Because he is needed as the image of any power. Because his heart "hurts for Ukraine." And to be in the blissfully morbid emotion of love for Ukraine is the normal state of any of the Ukrainian authorities.

And so we cannot say to Georgiy: “Rest in peace”. Because Ukraine will not begin to recover in the nearest future. It is simply not necessary, especially if we remember that…

Yesterday…

The whole world witnessed the sentencing of Nadija Savchenko. (Name Nadija in Ukrainian means hope.) And on the website of the newspaper, which has a semi-direct relation to the political party "Fatherland", whose first number was the epoch-making Savchenko before the last parliamentary elections, "the theme of the day" stated: "Yulia Tymoshenko: Early parliamentary elections - the shortest path to the changes."
The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting it

It is a pity that Gongadze, and Savchenko, and many others who have been, are, and yet, alas, whose fates will be closely connected to Ukraine's history of the morbid existence of the country - represent just "the shortest path to the changes." Unfortunately, local political “general practitioners” do not see another medicine to treat it, apart from "early parliamentary elections".

Their names may change: Groisman - Yatsenyuk - Shokin ... Moreover, they can even change the "wards" (and in particularly the critical moments - even their offices), just to assure that the patient with the name Ukraine, continues to have fever and needs to be cured in the political hospital. Because this is exactly the situation that allows them to be in the spotlights, doing their best to play in the show "My heart aches for Ukraine."

But all around the world the hearts ache for Ukraine. From Washington to Moscow. However, the process goes differently. The United States has a particular love for Ukraine, as to a poor, distant and scarcely known relative. This love is being measured by the distance. It is easier and safer to send him help regularly. And every six months US are ready to send a medical shone - like Biden, for example – in order to reprimand the local political "general practitioners."

Unlike America, Russia - as we all know - has more generous soul. And so it is the reason for assuring regular generous prompt delivery of yet the next humanitarian convoy. And for chasing and tormenting Savchenko. It does not matter that the stupid judicial case is totally deprived of all human logic. The main aim is how to make the victory of any trouble. Because

Yesterday…

Brussels was blown up. And Europe simply didn’t have the possibility to lend an attentive ear to Savchenko’s case. And practically prepared accusatorial speeches about her "22 years" of imprisonment were melted, unheard, into the terrified moans of the wounded in the Brussels airport and the Metro.
The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting it

Although, by and large, the sentence of Savchenko, Gongadze’s funeral (probably it was his body), and the terrorist attacks in Paris and Brussels ... (where will be the next geographical spot for attacks?) are the things caused by the absence of world order.

And by the breach of peaceful life and war. And it is not going on between the good and the evil. It would be too simple explanation where the only criminal is the Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant. Go deeply: it is a war between indifference and indifference.

The first indifference has the face of benign utilitarian Europe, who think that evil is not here, but somewhere far away - in Paris' “Bataklane”, Madrid’s “Atocha", in the London Tavistock Square. The second one is represented by the surly Russian indifference.
The little orchestra of hope with the true love - or war? - conducting it

Which, unlike the European one, on the contrary, believes that the evil is at the door, the evil has literally surrounded Russia by the hordes of "Right Sector" led by Barack Obama and his wife, Angela Merkel.

And underneath it all there is the weary Ukrainian indifference that sadly looks at Nadija, sentenced to 22 years’ of imprisonment, at Gongadze’s body, buried after almost 16 years, and at Brussels slaughterhouse ...

But Ukrainian indifference does not want to see anybody at her bedside, but the same dreary local political "general practitioners", who are looking for "the shortest path to the positive changes."

And the universal, world indifference is hovering above it all. This indifference can be overcome only by the war. Or by the love?

I do not know the answer to this painful question, but with all my heart I want to believe that the famous bard Okudzhava was right in his insightful song about the Love who is still conducting the little orchestra of Hope:



The Little Orchestra of Hope
by Bulat Okudzhava


When sudden sound of the trumpets
Still faint, commands a fierce grip,
And sudden words like midnight falcons
Swoop down from the fevered lips,
When melody rains on the road,
It wanders side by side with men:
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.

Back in the years of loss and turmoil
When sudden gusts of bullet rain
Came down to us without warning,
Without mercy or restraint,
And all commanders lost their voices,
That’s when it took command of men:
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.

The drum is bent, the trumpet – dented,
The old bassoon begins to croak,
And the clarinet is full of gashes,
But played by such a dashing rogue!
The flutist’s grace is all but royal,
And there it is, in league with men:
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.
The little orchestra of hope
With the true love conducting them.

Konstantin Nikolaev

Translated by Maria Kryzhanovska

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