Digging into the darkness of
Donbass is no easy task. You
descend a thousand meters Into
the womb of the world and midwife coal.
I know each day could be my last
and the mine my sepulcher
I suppose life beneath
the surface made me see beneath
the surface of things, perhaps even
into the things of the spirit. Who knows?
I am just a simple miner:
a digger bound to the tools of an era
past, who remembers the names of the dead.
There was once a time when a shaft of life
penetrated deep into
this heart of darkness and I recognized
the faces of the living: the nameless
children of those whose names I
recalled. Now I dig In another
place: the heart of a child. Once
I was a midwife of the earth
but now I witness the birth of heaven.