Afanasy Fet
What an evening! Streamlets run...

What an evening! Streamlets run.
    Banks are breaking,
Nightingales in set of sun
    Music making.

Moonbeams from on high invade,
    Flood the fallows;
In the gully willows’ shade,
    Gleam of shallows.

There’s an old leak in the weir.
    Planks are failing;
Dangerously lean you here
    On the railing.

So to new life everything
    Spring delivers;
Every field and copse must sing
    As it quivers.

Like these choirs, we shall be dumb,
    Cease from singing;
But our children then will come,
    Carols ringing.

Not they only, — grandsons too
    With a chorus;
With the spring to earth will flow
    Tunes sonorous.

Translated by Cecil Maurice Bowra