Snegurochka
She was a little maiden, made of snow
Born of ice and cold and frost one night,
Who yearned to feel the love that humans know,
That brings their hardened human hearts to light,
The love that warms them with its fire so bright.
Her parents fashioned her one day from ice,
And that same evening, there they saw a sight,
A little girl, so beautiful and nice.
As she grew up, their little girl became
A friend to all she met there; even then
She still knew she and they were not the same,
For they could love, and she could not. The men
Would court the ladies, but the handsome Len
Wished her to court, the maiden made of ice.
She asked her loving mother, and again
Her loving mother gave her this advice:
“My little maiden, made of snow,” she said,
“If you felt love within your heart, you’d melt,
For love is warmth, and you are cold as lead;
You’d vaporize, as if by fire or smelt.
Your fate is yours alone; it’s what you’re dealt,
And though with human love you would be dead,
I will not have a child who’s never felt.”
And so with grief, her mother acquiesced;
The little maiden made of snow would feel.
She wanted for her daughter all the best,
There is no life without a love that’s real.
So soon her heart the handsome Len would steal,
And she stole his as well, and felt so free,
And with a ring before her he would kneel
And ask for her his one true love to be.
‘Twas then the maiden felt it all begin,
The death arrived of which her mother spoke;
Her heart, for love, was melted from within,
The frozen ice which made her soon was broke,
And though ‘twas only for love that she woke,
That love melted her cold heart from inside,
As if the fates were playing some cruel joke,
And that’s how little Snegurochka died.
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