Ice on windscreen, thick as a wall.
Ice all round - no view at all.
Ice on car seat, ice on floor,
Ice on poor feet - will they ever thaw?
Ice on roads, apparently, too -
Not that I can see: no view.
Heard the man say on The News:
Slips and slides and worse besides,
And - what a surprise! - long queues!
Nice the ice looked from indoors,
As I'd stirred my Christmas dish!
Nice it had looked as I merrily cooked
And the children made their wish!
Nicely it had seemed to gleam -
Quite fairytale-ish!
But ice in the car, going nought miles an hour,
Is a different kettle of fish.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem