«Spring and the thaw, just like first love, are fatal…»

Spring and the thaw, just like first love, are fatal,

And icicles will melt, and water run

Just by and by, and spring began,

My dacha watches stream with no fun,

Birds swallow the oxygen so eager

And vertically fly with vigor.

Synchronic changing slush and snow

Means nothing at all,

Leaving only coal,

And tiredness, you know,

For only children follow the brook.

And icicles will hop

Grain-grower saw a dream

of ploughed land as porous as bread.

It means

A merchant gets his profit all around,

A poet gets the ground

To take some ink and write and drink

Some more.

And in the end we all

Will have some feast and fun

As if we waited for so long

And got in full

By thaw!

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