It's snowing here in the north pole.
Snowing in the thicket, snowing in the streets.
Our roofs and chimneys, subdued in its heap.
Our doors are clung to the walls
Indoors, everyone stays.
It's snowy here in the north pole.
Soon, it melts away, the snow!
And now, everywhere is bright.
Withered trees spring up alive.
On their branches, you'll find fresh leaves.
Beautiful yellowish marigolds
Winsome purplish violets.
We hear the birds' chirping sounds
The creeping ants are out from their hidings.
A once skating arena is a clear pond.
On the streets are many,
walking briskly back to work.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem