I dreamed of funny thoughts,
I dreamed, I'm not alone…
In the morning was awakened by the noise
And cod rushing floes.
I thought of the miracle come true…
And there, axes to grind,
Cheerful red man,
laughing, make fires:
Pitches heavy canoes…
River, singing, bore
And blue ice floe, and waves,
And thin chip paddle…
Drunk with the cheerful noise,
unprecedented soul is full…
To me - the thought of spring,
I know, that You are not alone…
11 Martha 1903
