Lunch in the patio
After the Western student took the order
After the waitress’s return
After the pulled pork
After the genus beer
“Skin...” He said
“...is what I like...”
And then went on
“The freshness, its beauty, its loveliness and the art...”
He stopped; searched for a word
He had to replace God
(With something, anything)
For him, an atheist, supernatural is hard.
We walked
Generous were the shorts, loose the skirts
(Hanging like noodle) the t-shirts
They were like his looks
They danced with breeze.
They flew with the wind.
“I am a Torontonian;
Love Toronto’s summers.”
The trees had given birth to infant leaves
The lake’s surface-waves presented fish
The goose sat calmly on the eggs
And the happy children played
All carried a message
“Summer is on its way.”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem