A day is slowly-slowly breaking
Behind a frosty window.
A fluffy winter is gently lacing
An icy, bluish, phantastic kingdom.
The morning turns a little greyer -
The sky,the snow and silver shadows.
No howling of the wind in prairy.
The storm is over - only silent
"feathers".
The heavens whiten,blackens ground.
A birch awakens feeling, dear,
The nature will revive and swing
around.
You should believe - the spring is
closely near.
авторский перевод стихов "Синее утро"