For the Soviet women

In every life there is a minute

When for some reason

You want to go back or quit.
Like nothing else exist.

And at this minute of forbidden circle
I opened an English book
About war and women.
The story was about Russian women

Who lived in the wartime.

In the collective farms, dugouts, trenches, snow.

In old clothes and military uniforms,

Wrinkles on their faces,

Wrinkles on their hands,

Without much food, without men

With children to care,

They had light of hope in the tired eyes.

1941 (a letter from a soldier)

1941 (a letter from a soldier)

Your kisses are still on my lips.

And I am not afraid to fight for them.

Nineteen forty one… Forty one days of cold.

The war is going stronger and stronger,

I am a Russian soldier walking on our burned lands.

Every minute I want to be with you.

I send letters under the endless explosions.

How are you my dear?

Instead of “I love you”

I yell “Fire!”

A young military nurse - my Russian poem in English

The strangers called you “sister”

Young woman army nurse.

In the hardest time you helped,

In the battles you smiled,

The bullets fire was never in your mind.

You ran and crawled under the explosions,

Did not have fear and doubt,

All you had was thought , learned in medical schools

How to save the insured and dream to win.

In the war hospitals, army barracks

You were fighting for each soldier

As if he was your father, brother, husband

Who went to the war for your occupied country.

Your smile, your beauty, your kindness and bravery

Tell that the victory is yours by destiny.

Written by Irina Mouravleva (me)

My mother tells me all the time - my poem

Tells me mother 

All the time: 

You dress beautifully,

Take care of yourself, 

Exercise more,

Sleep less,

Yes, wake up early,

Smile, smile, smile,

Be loved and love,

Be happy,be very happy,

Be good and fair,

Be pleasant, tidy,

All because

Life's so incredible!

My grandmother Ira story

I wrote this poem for my grandmother Ira, its not done yet, just want to share a bit. 

May be one day my friends

I will remember everything from my childhood years.

My house in the old Russian village

My homeland .

Many blue flowers

And bright blue sky.

How I dreamed to grow up fast.

How my grandmother looking at me and smiling.

How my mother rubbed my back with feather after I burned on the sun.

How my father was proud of the red Soviet flag his Collective farm received.

I will remember my kind aunts who always worked, their wrinkled hands.

I will remember my three handsome young uncles who went on the war and did not came back.

I will remember our kitten and our little piggy Nurka ,

I will remember our cow Zorkia who saved us in the very difficult time.

I will remember all the people from our village,

Strong men and beautiful women,

How they cared about us and how much they told us to grow big, strong and kind.