Роятся белые пушинки, словно стая, Несут в февраль...

White fluffs swarm like a flock,
They carry a particle of January in February,
Between the strands of light under the canopy of a lantern
Either arriving, then suddenly disappearing ...

Their myriads of tiny creatures
The lyricism of the night is worn on the wings.
The feathers of the sky crumble to dust
A receptacle for countless universes.

Black trunks between white. Of all colors
Only the pale gold of the lantern track
Yes, lonely windows, gloomy oil ... -
They flow to us with charm from fairy tales ...