Cold, wet, I fight tirelessly to feel the warmth
Wrapping my arms, trying to shake the shivers
It is times like these I remember the summer heat with
Ardent pleasure
It seems not so long ago I was lying on the grass
Looking to the sky cloudless, the sun scorching down its glorious rays
In a blissfully oblivious way I succumb to the peace that surrounds me.
Every season has its gifts.
Even in these coldest days I take solace as I cocoon and look outside my window
Snow-capped branches, the renewed landscape
What a simple pleasure to be the spectator of such beauty and unpredictability.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem