Skiers Boris Kustodiev (1878-1927)

RUSSIAN WINTER

1

Boys were building a fort in the yard
In the bright, clear morning light,
And snowballs flew – a whole swarm of snowballs.
Oh, why words! No words are needed at all...

I slid down the slope on my sled easily.
The city-evening sparkled for me with lights.
As an adult, I went to visit my brother, and the snow crunched.
And I am far, so far away from childhood...

Winter air is transparent, tempered
By a wonderful frost.
A bright New Year is raging – a colorful New Year!
Forget your worries, people.

Luxurious sable winter,
January in its fluffy coat knocks on your doors.
The crunch of that smooth road...
Oh, how generously God has blessed us.

2

The forest, enchanted by snow,
Has double depth.
Islands of dense thickets,
And the snow knows no guilt.

Something shivers – from a tall spruce
Pink dust falls.
Winter leads to its goals -
Beauty is the goal – of our whole life.

3

The city is captured by snowfall,
But this captivity is not frightening.
The city, full of lights,
Is also full of honey, and it shows itself in different angles.
How mysterious the station is now,
And the spare tracks are white.
The blizzard will build another wall,
Because winter is so strong in Russia...

4

I rounded the corner past the pharmacies -
The snow changes the colors of existence,
Or simply adds new ones -
It plays with us, it flashes,
It sparkles, rows of streetlights
Free our hearts from trouble.
And luxuriously, abundantly the snow falls,
So that we can taste honey in winter.

5 BALLAD OF A WINTER BALLAD

Under the power of a blizzard – blinding, flying -
The whole city is toy-like, unreal.
Houses are like gingerbread. Or chests.
There are many worries for Snow Maiden before the holidays,

And Santa Claus has a lot of work to do,
The whole city is a single metamorphosis.
Now filled with wonderful gardens.
Abundantly fed with magical fruits.

Look out the window at the snowflakes.
You can hardly see where our path is,
Which we used to walk to school,
And safely kept funny secrets.

How long this blizzard lasts!
How many wonderful and festive lines.
The lamp near the window flickers shyly.
This blizzard is a reality. Not an idea.

The ballad will go through hills, through roads,
Unfortunately, it wont improve things in this harsh world.
Poems and nature! These are two aspects
Of magical light! I want to return -

To a state where you can be a spirit without a body!
I want the ballad to fly freely -
To fly over the world like a cheerful blizzard,
Without dreaming of a specific goal.

Because all people are captives of goals.
The whole city is white – ravines, canyons.
Everything black has become boiling, joyful,
And there is so much happiness in the world...

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