The Breeze is blowing now

   the spring is on its way

 wild tulips blossoms are blossoming crimson red;

 will the magic spring triumph over the stone and snow?

 The breeze is blowing now

 the spring is on its way

 the migrating birds will return again

 and will build nests

 and will sing

 all over the plain of green sympathy            

 the atmosphere breathes of freedom

 and the seasons are lengthy seasons of free excursions in

 the gardens

 and singing the songs               

 for there is no trace of the cage

  and the spring is on its way