I can already feel winter coming
and in the air there is the smell of snow,
silently it will fall on the forest
and cover it...
The trees are bent over by the frost ,
this night I know that the fox came,
of his step along the path
the footprint remained...
It stopped there on the hill
sniffing the air indecisively,
she withdrew then trembling a little
with fear
Behold, winter has come,
on my forest it is the snow has fallen,
now the frost will also take the river
and will stop it...
Slow flights of black crows,
this night I know that the fox has come,
chasing along the path
a vague trace...
She stopped there on the hill
sniffing the air indecisively,
she withdrew then trembling a little
of fear

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