Trotting races New Year,

In the house in a hurry, knocking;
On the lakes of the white ice
The eyes of the blind, sparkles.
Maple, alder his arms, is
So warmer together;
Speak softly
Her, his bride.
The sun will soon fade
Fun for the hill;
and sing
The forest in a Blizzard of ringing.
Snow dance dance,
Vortex whirl;
Soon, soon New Year!
Trot to visit rushes.