the snow still lies br and for me smells of the May br my inventive head is plaiting a garland br is singing a song br and is waiting for the May br br finally to choke on the fresh air br above the seashore br from a distance from the noise br and when more time will be br for itself for us, not for mass... br to do what we have the willingness br br to and then it we will already wait br for the autumn, winter br we will live to fight br another day br like every year...