Palmwoods Poet’s verses shaped by war in Ukraine

Palmwoods poet Judith Bandidt has written a poem about the invasion of Ukraine and the pain of war, as a mark of solidarity with those under fire.

Palmwoods poet Judith Bandidt has written a poem about the invasion of Ukraine and the pain of war, as a mark of solidarity with those under fire.

“The situation in Ukraine has moved me, as a poet, to express what I feel about what is happening there,” she said.

“I wrote the original version of this poem just after the siege of Sarajevo. It was published widely during 1997. A few months later I received an email from a Bosnian, who had lived through the experience, who said I had ‘touched his heart’. The poem at that stage was called Does it Rain in Sarajevo?”

Judith said she could see parallels to what was happening in Mariupol and revised the poem in light of Russia’s current invasion. 

“In a world beyond belief, one has to ask: What has changed?” she asked.

Does it Rain in Mariupol? 

Does it rain in Mariupol

as the seasons come and go, 

Do the flowers bloom in springtime

and the gentle breezes blow? 

When the storm-clouds gather

beyond the distant hills, 

Does the rumble of the thunder 

mean the streams and rivers fill? 

As the sun goes down in splendour 

at the closing of the day, 

In the peace of evening

does the family meet to pray? 

No! The truth of Mariupol

sets the natural world on end, 

Unnatural inhumanity

no reason can defend. 

Daytime raids the country’s lifeblood, 

darkness stalks the city’s soul, 

Hell-hot blood-red sunsets 

herald nights of deathly cold. 

Not a sound disturbs the curfew, 

fear ushers in the dawn, 

Shattered families seek survival 

as the tragic city mourns. 

They weep for Mariupol

with senses scarred by grief, 

But no one prays for reason 

in a world beyond belief. 

Hear the thunder as the buildings 

erupt in leaping flame, 

Feel the wind of conflict blowing 

off a storm of lies and blame. 

See the broken concrete gardens 

by houses bombed and burned, 

Smell the flowers near a gravesite 

and the dark earth overturned. 

Touch the silent tears of children, 

a river in full flow – 

Oh yes, it rains in Mariupol,

more than we could ever know. 

– © Judith Bandidt, Palmwoods, March, 2022