As the little tiny swallow or the chaffinch,
Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
His wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
Round their warm and cosey nest are seen to hover,
So hovers there the mother dear who bore him;
And aye she weeps, as flows a river's water;
His sister weeps as flows a streamlet's water;
His wife, as falls the dew from heaven--
The Sun, arising, dries the dew of heaven.
Pushkin - Talisman
