Soul Friends

Shepherds are rushing to their flocks-
Everyone with his beloved.

They affirm for my despair:
"No, there are no your friends here."

Wind is hurrying to the fields
and goes to its dwelling place.

In the commotion the words are heard:
"No, there are no your friends here."

Yellow glades, look of wheat
Each leaf is stating:
"No, there are no your friends here."

Aye, they are not certainly with me,
My soul friends are far away.
Boredom torments me without my friends.


Prince Grigory Aleksandrovich Khovansky

Translation and Photography by Igor Marinovsky from family Sufyan

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It is me during my travel in town Lanivtsi

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