Konakovo

KONAKOVO Konakovo was an ugly place Where grass should be there was none Rough-hewn icy paths to slip on Concrete blocks of massive size To the clouds all tried to rise Singularly lacking grace A soviet town with wintry face We strolled in the cold each day But she was by my side We laughed at the pigeons grey And she was by my side We walked near the Volga bay And loved the water so wide Konakovo was a lovely place