Ilia Shanin - Старый дом

I wait for winter’s tender hush...

I wait for winter’s tender hush,
for snow to hide me from the world;
I’ll drink my cocoa, faint and warm,
and watch the pale, unending day.

I’ll write to ghost who never write,
and read of love that fade away—
while silence fills the little house,
and time just slowly melts away.