I don't regret, don't call, and don't cry.
Everything will pass ... like a mist in an apple blossom.
Golden leaves fill my heart-
I'm not a teenager anymore.
My heart, you have begun to cool quietly,
Now I won't jump like that:
This home woven with birch patterns,
Can no longer attract me to stay barefoot.
The passion of the wanderer! Seeing you less and less,
Prompted me to spit out hot words gently.
Ah, I wasted the Spring Festival!
The hatred and unrestrained emotion!
Now I'm tired of looking forward to the future,
Life, are you a dream?
It seems that I am on a noisy spring morning.
Ride on a rosy horse.
The yellow leaves of the maple tree are silent,
The world will rot without a trace. ...
All beings in the world, you are endless,
I wish you happiness and prosperity forever!
I bid farewell to the house where I was born.
I bid farewell to the house where I was born and left the sky-blue Russia. The birch forest is like three stars in the pool, warming the old mother's mind. The moon lies flat on the calm water, like a golden frog. Like flowing apple blossoms-my father's beard has turned white. My return is far away. The snow will sing for a long time. Only the old maple tree is independent with one foot, guarding the sky-blue Russia. Anyone who loves to kiss the rain of fallen leaves will definitely like that tree when he sees it, just because the old maple tree-its face is the same as mine.