Old hatred in the country.

The lights of the village's old house were dark, and the young men and women met again, and she was standing by the stove in a flower dress, and she had a fresh dish in her hand, and he took his coat and collar, and he reached out. She wipes off her face, and her eyes turn from cold to confused, and he suddenly grabs her waist and pulls her into the arms, and the window flashes over her head, and the old account comes back at this moment, and she turns around, and he pulls her back from behind, and he pulls her back to her wrists, and the sound of her feet is coming closer, and the air becomes sore, and the old country hate, and the dust of many years is once again.