Nikolay Rubtsov
A winter song

This here village is still full of light,
Don't you dare to predict me more pain!
Winter skies are all gleaming with stars
That so gently adorn it again.

Solemnly shining, dreamily shining,
Meadow's soft murmur is heard...
Somehow my painful most memories
Starting to loosen their hold!

Odd village girl stands there smiling,
Me... I feel I'm drunk with wine!
All that was aching is dying down,
Skies up above are divine!

Someone keeps saying no voice survives,
Must one rejoice storm had won?
Who there is set on convincing me,
All I still hoped for is gone?

This here village is still full of light,
Don't you dare to predict me more pain!
Winter skies are all gleaming with stars
That so gently adorn it again.

Translated by unknown author