frosty is lonely
he hangs from a winter blue flag by a pink-roofed house
being blown by a salt-sea breeze
he has no snow people to talk to
he ripples his cloth edges among the sky-high palm trees and
above the candy-green grass
frosty is an outcast
to contrast the deep blue of his flag lies the pale desert sky,
shot through with bright Cali sunshine
frosty is a picture of out-of-placement:
he hangs and he hangs
he sighs and he sighs
all the while homesick
all the while thinking
that sometimes, sometimes
irony is clementine sweet
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem