Sleep kept trees ringing,
In the crystal begin their day.
The first snow is squeaky-crunchy,
They were imprisoned in the morning.
The branches of the Linden, as white feet,
They reminded me of strange animals.
The snow is dressed up in feather hats
Beyond the border a row of poplars, & nbsp; ;
And birches threw & nbsp; handkerchiefs,
He set up tents over the woods
And Rowan trees, powdered slightly cheeks,
He left before dawn.