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.
