The Russian Forest

The clean, cold brooks are running, The foliage around is rustling, Since childhood, I have been betrothed to you My loved Russian Forest! You have been covered with flowers or snow Or with yellow leaves, but Among maples, Among fir-trees, There is my secret house. And if I had light joy Or grief – melancholy with tears, I came to you, my loved forest, And bent to legs of the birches. The coverlet of these girlfriend-brides were woven from the most gentle threads of the sun We are connected to you with one thread, My favourite Russian Forest! -------------------------------------------