And again & nbsp; dawn & nbsp; blush rdea,
 Broadcasts the coming of the day.
 The dawn is fading, the day is brightening,
 In the last days of December.
 There are only four of them left.
 And how many passed by.
 Winter. As  it was not enough,
 Two days it snowed, seven days it was cold.
 A  in the blue-white sky & nbsp; sun,
 Since morning today & nbsp; has risen.
 The beam shines in the glass of the window,
 A light breeze plays.
 Rowan brush like candles,
 Shine, & nbsp; rubies of grief.
 The fire went out  them only in the evening,
 On the twenty-seventh day of December.