We must believe that we used to live and be sincerely happy.
That blue morning air soared together with our souls.
That those people we met on a path in our life were the best.
And in the freshness of May blossoming we used to carelessly laugh with them.
We could have replaced them but we were not able to.
We trusted in destiny.
And those beloved faces remained the best for ever.
This is the shine of destiny.
These are the live branches of our years.
This is our memory.
This is our cross.
It is never heavy.
We shall carry it through only once….