Birch paradise

BIRCH Wounded

Birches, vulnerable
Stored by Russia,
They stand and bow in the belt
Wheat spikelets
And the cornfield is worried
And flaunts in waves
Chasing each other
To birch lines.
Millennia have passed
More centuries will pass
And you, dear ones, will
Bows to hit the ground.
You forgive people everything
You illuminate the vastness
And a long way for Russia
Will shine in the darkness!
Girlfriends, birches,
Little dews, like little tears,
You drop thoughtfully
Oh, how my soul hurts!
Forgive us if you can
After all, there is no more dear to you,
Keep cherished Russia,
And Russia will keep you!