What I feel is a group of feelings that are difficult to describe. Nostalgia for home is increasing day by day. When I walk in the streets of a foreign country despite its crowdedness and lights, I feel that it is empty… and gloomy… and that I am a stranger in it… and it is foreign to me… despite the availability of entertainment, it does not compensate me, even for a moment, from my country.

I’m tired of this situation. I love my country… and my family. I cannot live without them. I am like a tree, and the soil of my country is my home, and my family is the water and the air.
My branches are starting to dry out. And my color faded from the absence of the sources of life from me. I can’t stand this situation. It is necessary to return to the homeland, even if they crawl.
I will return to my country, in whose arms I was raised, and who covered me with its tenderness for many years. I can’t stand their parting.
A person does not know the value of his country until he becomes alienated from it. No to strangers. It is enough. I won’t be surprised anymore.
I will go back to my country and rebuild the land that my ancestors watered with their blood. I will never overdo it.
And the truth of the blood that my grandparents told you about……. What day will you be easy, my dear, oh my country’s soil