February snowdrifts

February is flying by. - Winter is passing.
The snowdrifts are growing.
And until spring - quite a bit, -
some - seven hundred minutes.

Well, not seven hundred, maybe more.
The clock is rushing towards spring.
And you don’t want to wait any longer,
I need spring air.

Everyone needs it: trees, people,
dull gray houses,
and even willow to thin twigs,
endless arable lands and fields.