watercolor The cold winds still blow And bring morning frosts. Only now on the spring thawed patches The early flowers of pumpkins, As if from a wonderful wax kingdom, From a fragrant honey cell The first bee flew out, Flew through the early flowers To scout out the red spring, Will the dear guest soon be here, Will the meadows soon turn green, Will the curly birch tree soon pumpkin Blossom with its sticky leaves, Will the fragrant bird cherry blossom. --ar 9:16 --stylize 750