Beneath the shadow of mountains, Where the wildflowers blossomed fair, The scent of earth and cedar, Merged in a fragrant welcome, To the heart that longs to be free.

Ark of memories sways gently, On the currents of the crystal lake, Ripples dance in moonlight’s glow, As the night whispers sweet reveries, Of stars that weave the fabric of dreams.

• Pāvels Rusovs