(my small homeland S. Kellerovka)
I love you, my native village,
And in my heart I keep it carefully,
Your fields, your open spaces
And childhood every dawn.
I know every corner of it,
I can walk through with my eyes closed.
I often think of you.
Your fate is my fate.
Walking through your streets,
I touch my memory:
How did you meet your friends here…
I hear the voices of friends…
And little has changed here,
Only the children got older.
Village native preserved,
Here is the house, here is my street.
And every time I come,
I wander through your streets,
I love you, my native village,
You will never be a stranger to me.
October, 2013.