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Seasons

Has thought up mother to daughters names,
Here Summer and Fall, Winter and Spring.
The Spring comes – the woods turn green,
And bird's voices ring everywhere.
And the Summer has come – everything under the sun blossoms,
And ripe berries ask for a mouth.
To us the generous Fall bears fruits,
Yield a harvest of the field and gardens.
The winter fills up with field snow.
In the winter the earth has a rest and dozes.