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!