Verse 1
For as long as I can remember,
The windows always glowed for me,
In the room filled with quiet spring,
And embroidered towels on the wall.
In that sacred, peaceful chamber,
A child’s heart would read and know
Shevchenko’s kind and watchful eyes,
And golden patterns in a row.

Chorus
Mother, your children are like birds,
Spreading wings into the sky.
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