Oh, where does the sweet sunshine show
Through the cold clouds dreary drab
These visions of tropical rehab
Keep me warm in winter's throe
Pour me a sip of Pelagic bliss
Let me taste of Apollo's warm romance
And if it may be just by chance
Let the sultry sun favor me a kiss
I long for the days when the days are long
O' how I wish to see a tropic palm
And feel the wealth of summer's balm
And hear the waves in July's song
But for now i dream of bodies tanned
And wait for summer's gate to arrive
I thank the good Lord I'm alive
And patiently wait for emerald coast sand <><
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
COLD CLOUDS DREAR DRAB - striking alliteration! And it's exactly what makes winter seem so oppressive with the sky like a prison roof instead of summer's boundless blue. You invoke two regions of eternal summer through your imagery: the Aegean with Apollo, and the tropics. Wishful thinking. But by and large you seem patient with the seasonal flow, never too desperate for the warm season.