Winter

This is my village
This is my home;
I'm rolling in a sled
The mountain is steep;
Here the sled rolled,
And I'm on my side - bang!
Swaying head over heels
Downhill, into a snowdrift.
And boy friends
Standing over me
Have fun laughing
Over my misfortune.
Whole face and hands
He covered me with snow ...
I'm in a snowdrift grief
And the guys laugh!
But meanwhile the village
The sun has been long;
A blizzard has risen
The sky is dark.
You will overcool all
You can't bend your arms
And home quietly
You wander reluctantly.
Shabby fur coat
Throw it off your shoulders;
Climb onto the stove
To the gray-haired grandmother ...
And you sit, not a word ...
Quiet all around;
Just hear - howls
Blizzard outside the window.
In the corner, bending over
Grandfather weaves bast shoes;
Mother at the spinning wheel
Silently, flax spins.

Izbu illuminates
The light of the light;
The winter evening lasts
Lasts without end ...
And I'll start at my grandmother
Fairy tales I ask;
And my grandmother will start
Tell a fairy tale:
Like Ivan Tsarevich
I caught the bird-heat;
How is his bride
The gray wolf got it.
I am listening to a fairy tale -
My heart is dying;
And in the pipe is angry
The evil wind sings.
I'll snuggle up to the old woman ...
Quiet speech murmurs
And my eyes are strong
A sweet dream will be contiguous.
And in a dream I dream
Wonderful lands.
And Ivan Tsarevich -
It's like me.
Here in front of me
The wonderful garden is blooming;
There is a large
The tree is growing.
Golden cage
Hangs on a bitch;
There's a bird in this cage
Like heat, burning;
Jumps in that cage
Sings merrily;
Bright, wonderful light
The garden is full of it.
So I crept up to her
And grab the cage!
And wanted from the garden
Run with the bird.
But it was not there!
There was a noise, a ringing;
The guards came running
To the garden from all sides.
My arms were twisted
And lead me ...
And trembling with fear
I wake up ...
You flowed merrily,
Children's years!
You were not overshadowed
Grief and misfortune.

I. Z.Surikov