DIAMOND DOGS // ARA!
- One Love Energy
- Mar 17
- 4 min read
The Modern Kobzar’s Song
The Dnipro roars, the wind blows cold,
Across the steppes of green and gold.
But look!—the daughters of our land,
With glowing screens in trembling hand.
No longer spinning hemp or flax,
In embroidered shirts with straightened backs,
They dance upon the dusty street,
With restless hearts and rhythmic feet.
"Ara!" they cry to distant skies,
With ancient fire in youthful eyes.
A foreign word, a sudden spark,
To light the shadows of the dark.
O, my poor land! O, hills so deep!
Do not let your weary spirit sleep.
Though songs may change and fashions fly,
The soul of Ukraine will never die.
Let them dance, and let them shout,
Until the sun puts darkness out.
For in their joy and modern play,
They chase the tyrant’s ghost away.
......................
They shout "Ara!"—a cry of the young,
In a language the old ones have never sung.
On the broken stone of a Kyiv street,
The pulse of the future begins to beat.
Suck it up, you ghosts of the past,
The chains you forged could never last!
Let the screen-light burn like a rebel’s torch,
From the village hut to the city porch.
Dig the grave deep,
But the spirit flies higher,
Fed by the neon
And ancient fire.
...............................
The Diamond Kobzar Remix
(Intro: The sound of a baying hound morphs into a digital glitch. A heavy, rolling drum beat begins.)
As they pulled you out of the oxygen tent
You asked for the latest trend, and where the spirit went!
But look at the rubble, look at the sky—
The Diamond Dogs are dancing, and they never say die!
"Ara! Ara!"—the shriek of the wire,
Shevchenko is weeping, but he’s feeding the fire.
In the shadow of the tanks, in the dust of the lane,
The girls are all "ch-ch-changing" the face of the pain.
(Chorus)
Beware of the Diamond Dogs!
In their embroidered hoodies and their platform boots,
Sucking up the sorrow, digging up the roots.
Beware of the Diamond Dogs!
They aren’t your cretins, they aren’t your prey,
They’re dancing the Bowie and the Jagger way!
(Bridge)
In the year of the Scavenger, the season of the byte,
The Dnipro is glowing with a smartphone light.
"Suck it up!" shouts the wind from the steppe to the sea,
"This ain't Rock 'n' Roll, this is Genocide-Free!"
(Outro)
Tarashcha is burning!
The trend is a-turning!
Bow-wow, "Ara!", Bow-wow!
The Kobzar is a Diamond Dog now!
>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<
The ABCs of the Void
Memory dries like grass,
in the city of Bucha,
in the city of Irpin.
The girls are dancing on the slag heap now—
"Ara!"
A syllable like a bottle shank
cutting the eyelid of the sun.
We have packed the humanitarian kit:
One part Bowie’s glitter,
Two parts Shevchenko’s iron,
A handful of LEGOs we can no longer build.
The "ї" is a candle burning
in a broken lock.
(Attention: escape the parentheses)
"Ara!"
The Diamond Dogs are barking at the border.
"Ara!"
The children water petunias with a tin can
filled with atonal music.
We are internally displaced
inside someone else’s poem,
hugging instead of words,
sucking up the dust of the silk road.
Jesus ascended in Mariupol,
but the TikTok filter
makes the halo glow pink.
It’s not about literature anymore.
It’s about the grain of amber
ripening under a ring finger
that just finished digging a grave.
Run the cretin.
Dance in the street.
The future is an empty house
with the iron left on.
>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<
PROTOCOL: SYNTH-IT // SEQUENCE: SUPERNACULAR
(The Industrial-Kobzar Remix)
[Beat: Heavy, atonal, the sound of a shovel hitting frozen clay]
I.
The key turns in a broken lock.
(Attention: All to the shelter.)
Space is overgrown with danger weeds,
And "Ara!" is the only word that bleeds.
It’s a bottle-shank throat,
A stolen youth in a muted boat.
Suck it up.
Run the cretin.
The paper flowers are blooming in the trench.
II.
We’ve packed the aid kit with war songs and glitter,
Shipping "ї" to the world—tastes like a lemon, bitter.
Iya Kiva is escaping the parentheses,
While the Diamond Dogs are catching the disease.
In Bucha, the Mount of Olives is a basement floor,
And Jesus is a civilian who can’t take anymore.
(Attention: The air raid is going off.)
Dance in the street.
The future is a LEGO set with the pieces ripped off.
III.
Tell me, was it a joke?
I dug all night for a line of hope.
Amber ripening under a blistered thumb,
While the TikTok girls make the empire numb.
"Ara! Ara!"—the shriek of the wire,
The Kobzar is a glitch in the funeral pyre.
We are the internally dysfunctional,
The externally erased,
Paving the Silk Road with a decimated face.
IV.
(Outro: Fade to the sound of a wet hand knocking on a door)
The iron is off.
The petunias are dead.
The Diamond Dogs are the only ones fed.
Stay with me the whole sleepless night.
Hold my pale foot.
Turn out the light.
