If I could visit magical Kyiv,
     In the bright effulgence of spring
I would feast my eyes on the
     Architectural splendors
That mirror her people’s sturdy souls.

Then I’d stroll along the Dnieper    
     Where children frolic in cool waters
I’d hear buskers playing fabled songs    
     That sprang from ancestral souls.

The intoxicating aroma of fresh borsht,
     Meats and pastries would so allure
That I would gravitate like a magnet    
     To a charming café to savour each delight.

Sunflowers and trees would be blossomed full  
     And cheerful birdsongs would grace the air.
The streets would be a blur of bikes and autos -    
     All a-scurry with the bustle of  daily enterprise.

I would exchange the required hryvnia    
     For a chair at the Municipal Opera
To weep or laugh with Bohéme or Zauberflöte      
      Or perhaps a Shevchenko work or two.

I close my eyes in prayer for the peace
      That all Ukrainians are meant to have.    
My burning soul is with you always  
       And aches to tell you, face to face