About 20 years ago, I fell madly in love with a girl from the city with brown eyes. I tried to open my heart and marry her, but I couldn’t let her brown eyes fall in my arms.
After he said no, he chose the other father’s son, who graduated from school, visited places, and ate goose meat. I heard rumors that you were with a man, but I still loved you… One cold autumn night, I met him on the city street with brown eyes.
“Life is good. I can say that I met a good person, but tears welled up in my eyes…,. I kept looking at my watch… They didn’t accept my offer to see me every now and then. Can I tell you how long that night was?” His wrinkled eyes always make me worry. I can’t help but wonder how he is living…
I, too, connected my life with a girl from Altai and had a beautiful son. But those brown eyes don’t hide their thoughts in my heart from time to time… But I met them again this year.
His face was sad and full of heartache, he sat staring at me without saying a word, “You’re trying hard not to become a woman. You’re such a good guy, I started crying. The scar on your forehead that you think was stitched, your fingers are bruised, and the skin from behind the shirt that’s zipped up to your collarbone. Bruising is seen…
He said nothing when I said, “How are my brown eyes still alive?” Although it was dark, Borkhon felt sorry for his eyes while walking home. The life he was going through flashed before his eyes like a picture.
I didn’t see her husband, I thought he was a great man who graduated from school abroad….I kept thinking and came to the entrance… The sky is overcast, the wind is calm, and it’s quiet all around, as if to cry out.
“Listen, my butcher. If you marry my brown eyes, you won’t love me. Why don’t you care? A person is not brought up by eating goose meat abroad.
It is not cruel to show the harmony of love. It is a man’s arrogance to live with the grace of a woman who loves her, admires her partner, and carries the world in her sacred womb…
Otherwise, you are not a man. A big boy with a beard. Every drop of pain that flows from the eyes of my Borkhon eyes goes to you to enjoy the karma of life. Yes, I love your wife…
My God… My words become a dream in your dreams, and your karma of tormenting a woman in your heart… I was standing in front of the door of my house saying over and over…
My small eyes are only interested in living a good life. It’s better to love a far away than to cry… I can still hear your desperate voice saying, “A woman runs away from the good to the bad”…!!!!!. My brown eyes…
