She is in May
She is the fragrance of passing through the streets
She is a string of white tassels hanging from a tree
She is the memory of the childhood
When she blooms
The children's happy day is also to come widely
I put on my new sandals or skirt
Humming songs of summer
The home of my childhood
Next to a locust tree
The wind blew through the day and night
That heart did not feel panic
As a child
I was in the shade of her
Enjoying the cool breeze
As a middle-aged me
I prefer to have some thoughts about the locust trees at the beginning of the summer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem