A white hare hopped beneath the spruce tree.
«Midnight is coming soon," the wolf said with glee.
Though winter had wrapped everything in frost so deep,
Everyone wondered: "Will Father Frost come to keep?"
To the green tree the fox came running fast,
She heard the forest creatures' voices broadcast:
«What is happening here with you all, my friends?
Wolf, tell me truly, where does this story end?"
The wolf looked at the cunning fox with care:
"Your question, dear friend, shows you're unaware.
You've grown quite old, it seems to me,
Have you forgotten? It's winter, you see."
The hedgehog explained it all to the fox:
«We celebrate New Year, our friendship unlocks.
We wait for Father Frost together right here,
And now we invite you to join us, my dear.
Grandfather comes to the tree once a year,
He brings health and wishes to all far and near,
He gives out his presents and makes us all laugh,
His granddaughter Snow Maiden completes his behalf.
First Grandfather hurries to villages small,
Then to the cities—they're blessed one and all,
And only then does he journey to these woods so deep,
So wait patiently, clever fox, don't lose sleep."
Winter is lonely in every forest around.
The creatures all sigh, waiting for warmer ground,
But on New Year's Eve, the forest's alive,
Beneath the green tree, the celebrations thrive.
Father Frost returns home when morning breaks through.
Of course he is tired—he's ancient, it's true.
He doesn't rest idly throughout all the year,
He's preparing his gifts for the next journey here.
