Mother of the Beloved

 Grey horse, one with golden mane,
 bring me, the grey horse to the place
 where my beloved dwells.

 Go to the gates, knock by horseshoes.
 Maybe my black-eyed beloved
 will come.

 The beloved did not come
 but her mother appeared:
 "When you wish to be my son-in-law
 then go to the house..."

 Ukrainian folk song
 Translator and Photographer Igor Marinovsky


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It is me during my travel in town Lanivtsi

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