“It’s a long, long way.

To my native land⁠ ⁠…”

“It’s a long, long way. To my native land⁠ ⁠…”

Zherkóv touched his horse with the spurs; it pranced excitedly from foot to foot uncertain with which to start, then settled down, galloped past the company, and overtook the carriage, still keeping time to the song.