This is not a memoir, but really a conversation with my deceased husband. Vera Tulyakova with this conversation “at first saved herself from grief, and then it became for her the secret work of life” (Andrei Dmitriev). She was left without Nazim when she was barely thirty; she had a whole life ahead, but the main thing in this life had already happened - all her further events were reflected in the reflected light of a happy common fate with the great Nazim Hikmet. Vera doesn’t just retell Hikmet’s thoughts – she looks at the world through his eyes. And that is why many things that seemed familiar and ordinary in our country appear so unexpected, paradoxical, and sometimes even monstrous. And the people surrounding Hikmet are revealed in a new, different way - Simonov, Fadeev, Zoshchenko, Smelyakov, Svetlov, Shostakovich, the entire literary, artistic, theatrical and political “get-together”, as they would say today.