What grief! The alley's end br Is lost in snow again today, br And once again, the silver snakes br Are crawling through the snow. br br The sky's without a patch of blue, br The steppe's completely smooth and white, br A single crow is struggling hard br To beat its wings against the storm. br br My soul is frozen as the land, br There is no sign of dawning there. br My languid thought drops off to sleep br Above my slowly dying work. br br But in my heart still glows a hope br That accidentally, perhaps, br My soul will once again grow young br And see its native home once more, br br A land where storms may come and go, br Where thought is passionate and pure,- br And where a chosen few can see br How spring and beauty bloom.