In your Igloo
My frozen thoughts
Never melts
And we go to a desert
I give you my old Camel
To find your precious dreamy Oasis,
Would your Mom & Dad give permission
For this vagabond Nomad?
* When I was a kid I grumbled with my poor Mom that I want ice cubes,
Then she said; 'We are poor darling and your Papa left for Aladdin's wonderful lamp.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem