Clear morning. Quietly blowing
Warm breeze;
The meadow, like velvet, is turning green,
In the glow of the east.
Busked
Young willows,
Multicolored lights
The lake glitters.
Silence and the sun glad
On the plain of waters
Swans hand flock
Slowly swimming;
Here one waved lazily
Wings - and suddenly
Moisture splattered playfully
Pearls around.
