We are all laughing stock
At the hands of the summer.
See and here the laughter
Of the summer on this open field.
Summer is laughing in our
Face and we are not realizing
As yet our own duty here
That we have missed for so long.
Summer is here and it is
Laughing out of the court,
And it has the last laugh with hot air.
Here is the summer, approaching
Finely towards us but we are here
Slumped in to the seat under dry tree.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem