seasonable

https://rustih.ru/aleksandr-pushkin-zimnij-vecher/

storm hides the sky with the fog,
twisting snowy whirlwinds;
now like a beast it wauls,
then it's crying, like a kid,
now, on a roof ramshackle,
suddenly the straw it swishes,
then, like a' wayfarer belated,
it would knock on our windshield.

our little shabby shack is
both quite gloomy, and quite dark.
why do you, my dear granny,
sit so silent at the lamp?
are you tired  by the crying,
raised by storm for us tonight?
or you slumber under humming
of your spindle at low light?

let us take drink, kindly old friend
of my rueful early years,
let's have drink from grief; where is the goblet?
the heart will come merrier.
sing me a song how a swallow
softly lived across the sea;
sing me a song how a maiden
went for th' water early spring.

storm hides the sky with the fog,
twisting snowy whirlwinds;
now like a beast it wauls,
then it's crying, like a kid,
now, on a roof ramshackle,
suddenly the straw it swishes,
then, like a' wayfarer belated,
it would knock on our window.

#a_ex     #А_С_П_ASCII_ANSI