When By The Un-Muddy Joy Vasily Bargachan Poem by Yuri Starostin

When by the un-muddy joy,
Over the tundra the first rain splashed,
The odorous air in the wet sky,
Flying to the ghost happiness.

The bushes, puckered his black branches,
Grabs by the sticky languages
The rains drop thread multicolored
And greens up on the eyes.

The forest light up by the external outshine,
Shakes by the crowns washed,
Under the festering rainbow,
In the zenith of the rising day.

And my heart again, as in pasted youth,
Knocks, filled by the joy,
Knocks,
And its knock merges,
With the Morse code of the first rain.