For what I love my city

Kharkov, I love you! Love love! For what? I do not know… Probably for what you are. It’s so good – what you are. With my parents, I traveled half of Ukraine. I liked Kiev, Lviv, Dnepropetrovsk… And I just love you. After all, you are my hometown! How can a man have two native cities? Or three? No. He can only be one. And for me it’s you. What are you saying? Are you not perfect? And who is ideal? What is ideal? And what’s the difference, are you perfect or not? You’re just my city.

My friend, who recently returned from Moscow, buzzed my ears about the beauty of the Arbat, Red Square and similar sights of the Russian capital. Do not take offense at her. After all, the fact that she admires the other city does not mean that she does not love you. I, like her, like Moscow. There are many beautiful cities in the world. But was I born in Rome? Did she go to kindergarten in Paris? Did I go to school in New York and got friends? Does my family

live in Sydney? No, it all happened and is happening in Kharkov, my hometown. Some people think it’s silly to compare you, for example, with Paris. And what is it to us? Everyone has their own opinion. We will not persuade anyone – it’s pointless. But you love every one of your inhabitants, do not you? You love them all, all the people who have ever lived in your land. Even in spite of the fact, that they can put an empty bottle from under the drink right in the middle of your pavement, and then shout that their city is dirty. And many more you close your eyes – your love is like a mother’s, it forgives everything. And I hope that someday your people will thank you for it. After all, you are a proud and beautiful city, the first capital of our country. You were visited by Peter the Great and other great people. You sheltered and educated thinkers and writers Skovoroda and Gulak-Artemovsky, composer Lysenko, astronomer Barabashov and the famous anatomist Vorobyov. Some of your buildings were designed by Beketov himself. Your Freedom Square is the second largest in the world. You have twenty-two
universities. Students love you! There are a lot of young people in your streets, and there’s nothing to say about Shevchenko’s garden! Your Opera – “city in the city”, and it is performed by world celebrities. Your park is named after Gorky and adults and children. One day in September our entire class ran away from school and rode on the “Surprise” and “Chains” until each of us ran out of money. Home, of course, we walked. We walked along your streets, chatted, laughed, sang, shouted and it seemed you were happy with us…

Kharkov is mine, dear and good! I love you. I love your parks, gardens, gardens, avenues, squares, theaters, museums, schools, shops, cafes, clubs… In all, I love you. Let not you be the richest and happiest city on earth, even if you have flaws, but you are my native city, which means that I am the best!

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For what I love my city