Snow Storm

 

H. RAMZANOV

 

The snowstorm blows

But it’s warm, not bad;

For some reason

It heaps up joy.

As if it smelt

Of the distant spring;

And while turning aside

Sang like birds.

It filled my soul

With unexpected songs

Of merry spring.

It reminds me of you,

Distant quite remote...

­But did it remind

You about me?

 

 

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