There in the woods a Fir was born.
She also grew up there.
In any season She was slim
And evergreen, I swear.
The blizzard used to sing a song:
"My little Fir, good night!"
The frost kept hugging Her with snow
To make Her feel alright.
Sometimes a timid bunny-boy
Runned out there jumping high,
Sometimes a wolf, an angry wolf,
Directly trotted by.
The snow is crunching in the woods –
No doubt, it's just a sleigh.
A little horse with shaggy legs
Is running far away.
The horse is carrying a sleigh.
The man, who's on the route,
Cut down our little Fir today,
Cut at the very root.
And there She came, so elegant.
A Christmas tree we've got.
A lot, a lot of happiness
To all the kids She brought!
There in the woods a Fir was born
© Copyright: Максим Кушанов, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125112207803
Свидетельство о публикации №125112207803
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