LosPlomos comes down on the fjords,
In winter time and spring,
Coming from spain over mountains,
And valleys, grassland and ridge,
Los Plomos comes and when it does,
Norway, sweden and friends,
All return home to get out the way,
Snuggle up by their fires out of the rain,
And Los Plomos comes,
The Scandernavian express train.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem