Snow-clad is the plain, and the moon is white
Covered with a shroud is my country side.
Birches dressed in white are crying, as I see.
Who is dead, I wonder? Is it really me?
Снежная равнина, белая луна,
Саваном покрыта наша сторона.
И берёзы в белом плачут по лесам.
Кто погиб здесь? Умер? Уж не я ли сам?