Ivan Turgenev
The First Snow

I’m glad to see you, light stars of the fluffy first snow! 
On the dark ground you instantly melt one by one.
Other snowflakes quick and easy instead of you fly up:
Bees in the motionless air are whirling this way.
Winter will be before long; pressed ice will be screaming
Under a sonorous iron of earnest fast sleighs,
Hard will be frost, beauties’ cheeks will be profusely blushing,
Their long lashes with rime will be tenderly touched.
Well then! Steppe village, the time’s come to leave you however,
I will not look at your cabins all covered with snow,
I will not see smokes floated in skies blue and clear,
White fields and hills, — and the looming mysterious wood.
Let you fall down, fine snow! Yet a far away city
Calls me again for a meeting with foes and friends.

Translated by Vyacheslav Chistyakov