Dedicated to M. K.
The spring flute sounds, calls your name.
The snowstorm left, flowering April came.
And the snow came down, but the field is white,
The earth sang with snowdrops light and bright.
The blue sky caresses. Wordless questions
And obsession of gentle words confessions.
And the image of the young beautiful Virgo
Is again arising in front of you and doesn't go.