Fyodor Tutchev — Vernal WatersСтихотворения
Snow is still white in the fields
but spring is in the water's voice.
Running, the waters wake the sleepy banks.
They run, they glisten, they rejoice.
«Spring is coming, spring is coming!»
in every direction they shout.
«We're the young spring's runners,
with the news she has sent us out!»
Spring is coming, spring is coming!
In a bright, rosy round-dance plays
a frolicking, happy bustle
of May's warm, quiet days.