Written by: Sidney Beck


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