I set out for a suburb of Minsk. The sun does not give heat. It was cold. But the soul was warm.
The sun blinded his eyes. As spring:
Even midgets become giants:
Snow and clouds merge:
Only the lack of greenery recalls that until the spring still far away:
Icicles are melting, but this lasts only until the evening:
Clouds cover the sun. Again becomes dimly and gray:
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