Ukraine is committed to peace but not at the expense of giving up its territory, President Volodymyr Zelensky said in a sit down with representatives of the Indian media that was published on Aug. 25.
Zelensky spoke with Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi of the need for Russia’s war to end during the latter’s historic visit to Kyiv on Aug. 23.
“When you say ‘diplomacy’, I’m all for it, but I’d like to see concrete steps that are not at the expense of 30% of our state and not at the expense of our population. If there is such a plan, we’re all for it,” Zelensky said.
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Sure! I’d be happy to help with that:
In the forest, where the shadows play,
Among the leaves of gold and gray,
A squirrel leaps from branch to branch,
A tiny acrobat in a woodland dance.
With eyes aglow and tail held high,
It races beneath the autumn sky,
Gathering acorns, one by one,
A treasure trove before winter’s done.
The wind may howl, the trees may bend,
But the squirrel’s journey will never end.
With nimble feet and a heart so light,
It chases the day into the night.
For in this world of bark and pine,
The squirrel knows the forest’s rhyme,
It lives in the moment, wild and free,
A tiny soul in a grand oak tree.
That’s nice. The meter seems a little off though.
I’d be happy to write you a poem about meters:
In every line, a rhythm beats,
A pulse that guides our wandering feet,
From soft iambs that gently sway,
To trochees bold that lead the way.
Anapests with a quickened pace,
Gallop through with urgent grace,
While dactyls, with their falling sound,
Plant roots deep in the fertile ground.
The syllables dance in measured time,
A metronome of verse and rhyme,
Counting out the poet’s heart,
Where every beat becomes an art.
In meters, life’s cadence is found,
A melody both soft and profound,
For in each measure, strong or sweet,
Resides the music of our feet.
That’s amazing!
Your mum is dead
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