The midnight sun bellows humid heat.
Turning beautifull snow into sleat.
Tree's soaked in mud.
Branches hit the ground with a cracking thud.
Nature turns to look.
When the earth is shook.
Crushed flowers behaving depresed.
Theire actions represed.
And as soon as something starts.
It ends.
All is calm again.
And nature goes its own way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem