Afanasy Fet
I have come again with greeting...

I have come again with greeting
To tell that the mom shines brightly,
And the heat of sun is beating.
Stirring the young leaves lightly:

To tell you of woodlands stirring,
Of the brakes and branches waking:
Every bird its wing is whirring
And its thirst for spring is breaking:

To tell you that my old passion
Brings me back to love you duly.
That my soul in its old fashion
Still delights to serve you truly:

To tell you how all is rising
Above me in air delighted:
I know not what I'll be singing,
but to you my song is plighted.

Translated by Cecil Maurice Bowra