Under the yoke of winter
You slept, lethargic, in the North.
The evil king, the Frost, oppressed you,
But the power of the Sun
Has demolished his wicked kingdom!
Your dazzling-white petals,
Your gentle scent, intoxicating and alluring,
Has won over the permafrost.
May, 2012
Melodies of the Northern Spring. Melody 2. A Snowd
© Copyright: Хабибулло-Евгений Киселев, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112051808703
Свидетельство о публикации №112051808703
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