An unfinished story

Bird cherry trees are all in white, like brides.
Spring has stepped into Siberia. Straight ahead!
In motion, moments rush by:
flowering seasons. As if with a wonderful dream,

suddenly, I met: unexpectedly, unexpectedly,
reading the story of bright, idle days.
Again, intoxicated by a delicate aroma,
I do not want time to go faster.

Wait, let the charm last,
let me absorb the delight of beauty.
And postpone the hour of parting.
Spring, I ask at your feet.