My shiny, wood sled flys like it has wings.
In warm mittens my hands by the top cling.
Near home I can slide down the big white hill
Again and again without one small spill.
Like a bright angel with light, golden feet,
The red rungs of my sled don't miss a beat.
Going out in the snowy world to play
Is great fun on a sunny, wintry day!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem