Not an oak, but a simple laminate, 
 I step, I go to the kitchen, I cut the salad, 
 bare feet and such support, 
 if only the brilliance of the monitor shone. 
 If I have a salad and guess 
 why the leaves of the clover are left – 
 feet do not need slippers, 
 I will also see woodland in the salad. 
 Leaflets of new seeds 
 by spring it's time, it's time, it's time 
 ice water will run, 
 melting into the mountains, blue, 
 new watering, 
 I can see it, 
 blue water is not a question, 
 I seek it every day. 
 There is none in the rumble, thunder, 
 not in already drunk Borjomi, 
 but in your exclamations, languor, 
 in this house, 
 far from everything 
 a whole waterfall of impressive size, a waterfall of waters.