They said we had no precipitation,
I once believed it myself.
Winter passed without snow,
And in summer it did not scorch beyond measure.

Something drizzled
In autumn and in spring,
But can you really
Call that rain?
We knew no sorrow
Without a sum and with a sum —
In rest and in labor
You live day by day.

We convinced
Ourselves and those around:
Life is not hell,
But a granted paradise.
What we wanted, we took,
Did not notice the pain…
But having gone far,
You and I understood:
In downpour or in heat,
Cool or warm—
Turn for home.