The snow got off and earth has bared,
Untwines the river braids as a virgin.
The wild will be flowering all age in-
The Polar Spring is smelling in the air.
She is now so capricious, transient,
And it rains with snowing over there,
She warms thru the sun atmosphere,
The wind is heard carefree, ancient...
The larch needles will soon green up
And the birch earrings will hang again,
A bright firework of sound birds game
Will fly highly in the forest tundra up.
The blue of sky will blend in the water,
Where the heaven valleys reach out,
The romp of beasts will be, no doubt,
A divine part of the rapt silence matter.