I just received my mother’s letter,
It was fairly short, alright.
She says the orchard’s looking better,
The cherry trees are blossoming in white.
Just yesterday I used to run to school, it seems.
I used to plant those cherry trees.
And now with bees the berries teem,
They’re swarmed with hordes of wasps and bees.
Her words bring something special to my dormitory room,
A lot of them there needn’t really be.
But like a sort of song of joy, a simple springtime tune —
They always bring warm memories to me.
Перекладач: Andriy M. Freishyn-Chirovsky