My great grandmother liked to talk.
I don't remember all she said,
Only few stories.
Mostly about nature, flowers, trees,
Our village.
About a boy she loved when she was small.
I wonder, where he is,
She would say once in a while.
He loved me, but it was so much between us.
I was a maid' s daughter,
His family owned our villages.
Good day, Sasha, he said.
Wet black hair, clean pure white skin.
Good day, like this every day.
I showed him all our land,
All I knew,
Once in a while I would find little flowers near my house.
For almost a year.
We went far, far in the forest, hiding from everyone.
And then I heard his parents were looking for his future wife.
He would marry me, this what he said,
We would ran away.
At that time it was impossible.
You must go, I said that night and he left.
Few years later was Social Revolution,
His parents house, everything, land, became ours,
We built first collective farm,
School in his house.
Many years later I met him again.
I was freedom woman of a free country,
Walking on the market with my two children
And he was sitting in dirty clothes.
Hardly recognized him, didn't say anything.
I wonder where he is?
That was first great grandmother's story.
