The snow-flakes are flying
like white little flies.
They whirl round and round
falling down from the skies
on the trees and the grass,
on the streets and the cars.
And I kiss the snow-flakes in your eyes.
The snow-flakes are covering
our old town.
The moon is so nice
in its bright golden crown.
Our hearts’re beating fast,
I have found you at last
in the town wearing its crystal gown.
The snow-flakes are falling
down like silver birds
on the forest and fields
near the town outskirts,
on our footprints behind…
Will to-night you be mine?
Only smile, give a glance, say no words.
Moscow
April 15, 2004