Читать книгу The poetry of spring - C. Zueva - Страница 9

The bird talks were in the silent

The birds talk is in the silent.

Snow covered forests and fields.

The January of winters lend

Dressed up within clothes his.

The wondrous blonds Whether

Dissolves her shutters land

And creates up on all the windows It is bell

The painted frost it rids.

The White snow fallen on the ground

And covered all I so on the fields.

We descend from the hill boldly meets

And strip from the sled behinds.

A frost was blowing for strong cooling hands

It rids the nose and my cheeks.

The Merry winter is circling, is laughing as outdoors.

A white Blizzard flew again the train to works.