Forest morning

Morning in the forest,
winter, early.
Snow cover
in solid blue.

Light breaks through the treetops.
Distances, depths:
still in darkness.

And around there is silence,
the slender pine forest drowns in the frosty haze
in a round dance of birches.

And it is as if you are standing
in a light-domed temple,
where it is impossible to stand
without sincere tears.