A poem by Ukrainian LYUDMYLA DIADCHENKO Translated by PADMA THORNLYRE If you smell iodine, the captain is nearby. The pines support heaven upon their needles. An aquamarine July strolls along the seashore, Its ever-returning feet massaged by pebbles. You dilute the climate with tears. Carving melons Smells of vacation ... just as the inevitable captain. Hello! I know …
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