The earth sings of beauty: A song of tender ice, Clear and cold, when the sun rises I behold the bright caress, And the heart seems like a flower Waking in the silent air. In the heart of the woods, Nature secrets whisper still, Among the branches and the leaves, Where shadows load the atmosphere. Each sigh brings forth a new leaf, Shimmering softly under the light, With dreams of birds fluttering by, In this stillness, so alive.

• Marina Tsvetaeva