The February is freezing and it is chilling and it is
blowing and it is pinching. winter is fully but for us,
is dreaming flowery meadow.
And very well. After all every vision is having a chance
to the even minimal fulfilment. And flowery dreams,
have their grounds.
It is better sleeping and more easily are getting up
with the thought, that very shortly we will smell the
smell of the meadow and the Cupid will remind, what his
arrows are used for...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem