Yes, my dear friends, these are memories kept in deep recesses of our mind, secured by password that no one knows, something we take out of memory box from time to time to contemplate in solitude. I remember a friend of mine telling me in secret that her husband before marrying her, once freshly out of school had a sweetheart from the nearby village to whom he got engaged and then left for Siberia, where a huge railway project was in progress, to earn some money for the wedding, but there he met my friend and broke the engagement to marry my friend. Years went by, his former sweetheart got married and had family of her own, then at a comparatively young age she died. He cherishes the memory of his first love for he keeps visiting her grave every time he happens to be in the vicinity of her village. Thank you very much for your heartfelt comments.

What a lovely write, thank you so much for translating and making available for us such a beautiful poems, I really enjoy them

Thank you, my friends, for appreciation. It is nothing compared to how it sounds in the original. Wish I were its author myself. Writing poetry is a matter of talent and inspiration, worldly and particular knowledge, and life experience, and what not. Writing poetry is so unpredictable: no one knows when inspiration is coming. Even if it takes long, it is due to come some time. In the meantime there is so much to do, so much to read, translate, and, what's important, enjoy reading. This is to your Muse, dear poets!