Kozlov was a lonely village, far from any Jewish settlement.
Feivke had hardly ever met, or even seen, anyone but the people of Kozlov and their children.
They went by the great Kozlov wood, wherein every tree stood silent and sad for its faded and fallen leaves.
Listen, you Kozlov urchin, you just keep your hands in your pockets, because Leibrutz is here!
He pondered a long while which to choose, and finally made up his mind to take Kozlov's poem, and Roslavlev.