Maryam In the town of Pereyaslav-Khmel’nyts’kyy, On the shores of the Dnieper, Where its waves rage, My Maryam was born. The first month of spring, A joyous thing befell me, I fell in love with Maryam, And happiness was in my life. To me, a young military man, A young girl got married. In her eyes there was no unrest, But our life did not go smoothly. We lived together for three months, Until with pain we had to part — My wife went to the hinterland, And I went to war. I was wounded in battle, Maryam found out about it, She did not forget me, I knew that well. On this day, your birthday, I wish you, my dear, Health, luck, and peace, And to be with me for many long years. Very nice. Can we show it to the camera? Because your handwriting is beautiful. I will open it. Here, Maryam. Maryam, show it there. Maryam, and here is the poem. And, Maryam, that’s her name… Maria. Maria she is called… In her passport, it says Maria.