Nikolai Krymov. River

Антон Никитич Горшков
Milk-blue river,
 The sky is azure, the clouds are white.
 Where was she in a hurry, where was her road?
 Flowing, to what distant lands?
 
 Its banks are covered with trees,
 Jade-emerald bushes.
 And then the field without end and edge,
 The expanses of our mother earth.