on a summer day on my street
soft asphalt preserves footprints,
green leaves panting on trees.
the air, still like old paintings
resounds with children’s laughter.
on my street the dusk cools
lonely chairs, tables, glasses,
moths entrapped in streetlights.
on the benches under jasmine bushes
youth in love
in the summer night, my street
matures.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem