Краткое содержание: твір на ійській мові про моє село

Fresh light air, the silence is such that only wind gusts, early cocks instead of an alarm clock are heard - all this is associated, with me, with only one word - the village.
My native village is small, in comparison with the city, beautiful, picturesque. My village Vasilivka is called, I really like its name. He was named in honor of one local farmer Vasily, who for the first time in the village built a house, and so to speak, began life here.
Our village is rich in steppes, slopes and hills. The steppe in the spring is all florid, it is so beautiful that even the city, not local, come there to be photographed, and even those who flashed past the village.
And in the steppe, our pride of the village - the river! The river - oh, which is beautiful and beautiful, and even surprisingly clean. In the summer there are all children and adults, bathing, sunbathing and just resting with families. Also, there are a lot of animals, geese, who like to swim there and cows grazing on the shore. And even in the river are found otters, I am very afraid of them, white herons and there is even caresses.
In the steppe, we live on bunnies and gopher, and once, when it was very cold and fierce winter people saw there even a wolf.