A white blizzard will drop in my palms
|
Feather from the wing.
|
And the winds will cry about the expanse of snow -
|
Winter has come.
|
Lay snowdrifts and she will begin to break into the window,
|
But it will wonder
|
But I will dream of spring.
|
As if she is from distant wanderings
|
She returned to us again,
|
Like girls in ball gowns
|
The apple trees came out into the night.
|
Here they are again elegant,
|
They believe that happiness is near
|
Again their hearts are full of hope.
|
And not winter in our spaces,
|
It flaps its wings in the sky
|
The white swan is the friend of spring.
|
And the ice floes will melt and the wind will dry
|
Traces of a blizzard.
|
And wake me up again at dawn
|
Spring steps.
|
And songs will get into the habit of running from the windows
|
To the river spit
|
And the grasses will grow, and the stars will get wet
|
In dew.
|
Like spring from distant wanderings
|
She returned to us again,
|
Like girls in ball gowns
|
The apple trees came out into the night.
|
Here they are again elegant,
|
They believe that happiness is near
|
Again their hearts are full of hope.
|
And not winter in our spaces,
|
It flaps its wings in the sky
|
The white swan is the friend of spring.
|
As if yesterday only over blue water
|
lilac bloomed,
|
But suddenly a blizzard dropped me in the palm of my hand
|
Feather from the wing.
|
Lay snowdrifts and break through the window
|
She will start
|
But it will wonder
|
And everything will be a dream of spring.
|
As if she is from distant wanderings
|
She returned to us again,
|
Like girls in ball gowns
|
The apple trees came out into the night.
|
Here they are again elegant,
|
They believe that happiness is near
|
Again their hearts are full of hope.
|
And not winter in our spaces,
|
It flaps its wings in the sky
|
The white swan is the friend of spring. |