Игорь Северянинъ - Февраль

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Igor Severyanin - February

February’s frivolous with April,
Cuddling like a mistress to the king.
April is so full of laugh and peril,
Titillating naughty little thing.

Nightly, in the snowy-blue expanses,
Dreaming of nomadic nightingales,
February’s fawn reflective essence
Keeps repeating Springtime’s holy names.

Steaming malachite is hiding willows
(Isn’t that a February sea?),
Covering the shore that softly mellows,
Vanishing within a misty gleam.

Snow is melting, hardening. It’s sun lit,
Shining bright like diamonds only do,
And a grey old pinetree looks down on it,
Arrogant and haughty and aloof.

With the snow all melted – timeless pinetree
Its grey locks shall off it gladly fling.
I can hear a February morn trembling:
Lo! that is a quiver of the Spring!

1918