Memories of Altay

I was living in Altay
In the village of Rucherva.
I remember, do not I?
My surname was Gubanova!

Being child is so good!
We were going with my sister
For strawberries to the wood.
It was  foggy, very misty.

All were listening to tones
Of a nightingale  that morning.
Rocks were quiet for its songs.
The landscapes were so enjoying!

But I heard  the cuckoo s sound
In the forest far away,
Knowing  signs, I wished to count
How many years please say?

Suddenly a crackling sound of a branch
Made me  confused,
I destracted and... lost count.
A big owl looked amused!

I forgot the bird s prediction
The cuckoo cuckooed for me
I'm sure that my mission
Is one hundred years! Уou see?

Then I heard a gentle sound
Of a neighing of a horse.
It was nice and  not too loud.
Someone sang the simple songs.

It was getting very clear,
Sun was rising over  rocks.
Only hares were in fear!
Gusts of wind dispersed the fog!

All seemed charming in that morning!
A stream put on a silver dress!
Fields and hills looked never boring!
What a beauty! I confess!