It's 1.06 am here
In Manhattan.
My feet are cold, I wonder
Whether the lake on Central Park is as frozen.
I love Central Park (and for a moment, my mind dwells)
Summer in New York cannot be beaten.
Its better than winter, summer, it has warmth
Winter is detached and icy
And oh so lonely.
And now it's 1.08am and I am alone
In the busiest city in the world.
Cold and alone, without my summer of love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem