Назустріч

Росте хлоп’я мов кущ малини,
підкови на шляхах дзвенять.
Ось ластівки в книжках пташиних
записують початок дня.

Запрягши сонце до теліги,
назустріч виїду весні.
Окрилені хрещатим снігом
співають в квітні юні дні.

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