Wildly blooming May

Inhaling the heady aroma:
bird cherry, apple and rowan trees,
wandering through the forest, again, alone.

But this aroma from the forest...
pursues, by God, like a rake.
Nothing can be done with him.
He takes his soul out, jokingly.

He is a wizard and a sorcerer,
worries even without speeches
And if I could speak,
then, for sure, he could captivate me.