Spring came at night,
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When everyone was asleep.
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And even the house opposite
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He was in a dream.
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When all the trees and stations
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They surrendered without resistance in the spring.
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She came at night
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Secretly warm.
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And brought
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Extremely warm.
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Spring was coming
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In the crown and stems
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I drowned in myself,
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And she flooded herself.
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Came at night
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In the morning of March,
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Pouring generously
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The bird choir.
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Spring has come.
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Like a real queen.
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And every flower
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She smiled tenderly at her.
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Marina Kuzmenko
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Spring did not believe in phrases or borders.
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Spring crept in with smiles.
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In the eyes of
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Where even the old fatigue splashed,
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Spring was looking for a way there as well.
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Spring was in the thoughts that were not voiced.
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I struggled with the remnants of winter.
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On the streets
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Trees exhausted by the wind…
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Spring wanted to give them happiness.
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Spring did not stop.
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Unnoticed
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It got better with each ray and day
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Spring has not yet come
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Not a lush April,
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Not in May with thunderstorms and torrential rain.
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But spring was already…
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Spring is dreamy.
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Spring in puddles and flowers from under the snow.
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In the sun that shone so truthfully
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She went to those who only wanted spring.
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Marina Kuzmenko
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I stood and listened to the spring.
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Her fantasy movement is playful
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And the first butterfly flying in the empty forest
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It seemed like a wonderful overflow to me.
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I heard, I thought, a sigh
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Not yet defiled nature:
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Forests, without a trace of holiday bonfires,
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Fields, with the greatness of former freedom.
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Still heard the beating of the waters,
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Forest streams and small streams
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Birds were playing, and the roar of forest animals
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An invisible but prophetic round dance.
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Heard the stories of ancient rocks,
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That they threw off the oblivion of snow,
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And the song of the first timid escape,
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Which, you see, did not disappear under the snow.
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And what can that be for me
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To be beautiful in such a forest picture?
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When there is only black earth around,
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And on the soul - only ice floes, ice floes, ice floes…
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Nata Gladkova |