When I was young and up to in the spring To travel into world by novel pathways My mother had embroidered cloth for me With red and black threads in a pattern I roamed about the world and I was lost But always I came back to native threshold Have intertwined as mother's needlework My roads of sadness and my happy pathways REF.: Two colors of my life – they are with me Imprinted on the cloth and living in my soul Two colors of my life – I used to know: Black color is grief, Red color is love And now I'm touched with grey and tired a bit And there is nothing valuable to carry home Except the bundle of the olden cloth With all my life that was embroidered on it REF.