Chernobyl'

I take roots in a town of bad black weeds,
Stalks were too often washed with blood,
But the town would bury another seed
And would hope for a tree to sprout.

Soon, apple and pears and mulberry trees,
Would be rustling softly and sing,
How the Winter always passes on magic key
To the blushing, excited Spring. 

And the town got chosen, like babe in tale
For the hard, magnificent task: 
On its bad black soil, a star to build,
You imagine? A star, a star!

And it seemed that the curse was overthrown,
The star rose, of greatest might,
Sparkled so! - as if somebody made a crown 
For the town, to shine at night.

Flowers frolicked and fairy-danced in a ring
River bubbled with joy, running forth
And all apple pears and mulberry trees
Were admiring the star on Earth.

Only spirits and ghosts weren’t amused by the sight,
And refused to forget the spell
And the Star exploded one quiet night,
Turning all into land of Hell.

…Empty stands the town, but weeds grow wild
River bubbles, in the sky sings wren
Blooms are gorgeous. They- they remember why,
But don’t seem to remember when. 

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^{* Chernobyl’, or Chornobyl’, literally means “black grass”, or “black stalk”, some sort of mugwort that grows there in abundance.}