Under my window
Tucked in the snow
White birch retired
Clad in silver glow.
On the fluffy branches
Snowy-trim with silver-tinge
Melted around catkins
Forming white fringe.
Like golden fires
Snow-flakes blazed
While birch stood still
Asleep, or amazed.
Meanwhile, lazily
Strolling around,
Dawn threw more “silver”
On the twigs (and ground).
Sergei Yesenin.
Translation by K.M.W.Klara
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