It is Baguio
And I am writing
Fog is falling
It befell us before and will again
White air lends its cold
Freezes the smoky balls from
Native bonfire down hills
It washes the pines
Whose pointed leaves lend
Music for the deaf
The noon gets more smoke
More cold now on my feet
Rays of the sun are tortured
Seem it refuses to shine forever
What a premature sunset occurs
Fog falls again
Like soft rain
Feeding the hungry earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! ! You were at Baguio City, the summer capital of the Philippines......It's a cool poem amdist summer season...