不管，命运之手如何沉重，
不管，人们如何执迷于虚妄，
不管，皱纹怎样爬上额头，
不管，心里充满几多忧愁；
不管，你在忍受着怎样的
残酷的忧愁，但只要你
碰到了初春的温和的风，
这一切，岂不都能随风飘散？
……
Spring
No matter how oppressive is the hand of fate，
Is human deceit，
No matter how deeply they furrow our brows，
Wound our hearts，
No matter how severe are the trials
To which we daily must succumb，
What can resist the breath of
And that first encounter with spring.
…
By Tyutchev
