by Michał Rykaŭ and Emily Laxton Music by Nina Gordon Fragment from the poem "The New Land" by Yakub Kolas Philip-tide. Then St Nicholas. More merrily the days now pass. For thought the winter presses harshly, And its dread chill rages vastly Like some wild and savage revel. And the wind howls and whistles ever Like clarinet or bagpipe wailing At some monstrous banquet playing Yet eyes of distances gleam brightly, And their garments glisten whitely. Beauty dwells in those winters chilly, And in the dead-white of their kilims That hang and shimmer as with crystals. Over the dumbstruck forests glistening, When frost on fiery throne is seated, With tapestries all crimson-bleeding, And o’er the world his hands he raises, Quietly enchanting and embracing Or when the blizzard swells in power, And winds wax stronger with snow-showers, And all things tremble in white whirlwind… What freedom’s there in that bold swirling! It’s your hour, winter, revel, larking! Soon Candlemas, the half-way mark, comes. The warmth will start to blow you from us, Bright sun by day begin to warm us. Translated by Vera Rich https://binim.org/index.php/sdm_downloads/31035/