DESCRIPTION:
The Native song. This is my original composition from 2000. I composed it in my sleep. It was the sound of nostalgia about my home and my country. The minor key melody that brought the memory of Russian fields, Summer breeze through the open window, the birds singing in the garden, the blue sky and brown river that flow peacefully and endless.
Here is the wonderful poem by Anna Akhmatova, 1958
"Music"
Something of heavens ever burns in it,
I like to watch its wondrous facets' growth.
It speaks with me in fate's non-seldom fits,
When others fear to approach close.

When the last of friends had looked away
From me in grave, it lay to me in silence,
And sang as sing a thunderstorm in May,
As if all flowers began to talk in gardens.