@apela 17 August 2020 more from that month

Where the song of the nightingales is heard, beautiful, sweet, there, in addition to the grove, stands a homestead. She's really poor and maybe over a hundred years old, but to me it is more precious than the whole, the whole world. Its arches are low and covered with straw, in the guest orchard it is almost entirely hidden. But in my heart it always turns so white, even though she is poor, I am no better than her. And here a good peasant mother gave birth to me and she implanted the teachings of gold in my heart. My paradise ran in this house at a young age, therefore it is dearer to me than the whole, the whole world.