Winter Evening by Aleksandr Pushkin

The storm covers the sky with a haze
As it swirls heaps of snow in the air.
At times, it howls like a beast,
And then cries like a child;
At times, on top of the threadbare roof,
It suddenly rustles straw,
And then, like a late traveller,
It knocks upon our window.

Our ancient cottage
Is sorrowful and dark.
Why, my old lady,
Have you fallen silent by the window?
Has the howling of the storm
Tired you, my friend?
Or are you drowsing, lulled by the buzzing
Of your spindle?

Let's drink, kind friend
Of my poor youth.
Let's drink from sorrow- Where's the mug?
Our hearts will be happier.
Sing me a song of a bluebird
Happily living beyond the sea;
Sing me a song of a maiden
Going to get water in the morn.

The storm covers the sky with a haze
As it swirls heaps of snow in the air.
At times, it howls like a beast,
And then cries like a child.
Let's drink, kind friend
Of my poor youth.
Let's drink from sorrow- Where's the mug?
Our hearts will be happier.