Return of the storks,
Heard their chime.
Their destinies were not easy.
A wedge of birds can be seen in the sky.
Their spring meets color,
In the splendor of gentle herbs.
With light, not cold wind,
With the rustling of oak trees.
In milky, loose clouds,
Heaven is hidden.
Have spring song enchantment,
Beauty spreads.
Storks laughed,
Met their native land.
Was for them, he so far,
And now it's like Heaven...