"You write nothing of war?!" Sometimes I hear such a question… Friends, do not sigh for me, I have no inspiration for war!
I cannot sleep. Two hours till dawn… My hand runs across the keys again. And suddenly autumn's beauty is reflected In my verses… Simply in each word!
My poems, as before, are of Love, Of autumn, of grandchildren, of home… If the Lord Himself should speak to me, Then of peace I will write instead…
