March

There is still snow everywhere, unforgettable,
winter does not want to leave completely.
But the sun shines, frankly,
and gives hope to everyone.

And the air smells of the aroma:
of manure, rot and bark.
You should not swear
at the sight of dirt and earth.

In places the canvas of tired winter melts imperceptibly.
And the birds have flown in from the south,
and it will get warmer, anyway.

Spring will certainly take away
all power from the royal winter.
And then the snowdrop will bloom,
and suddenly we will find happiness.