Now waiting expectantly for summer
To play in the ear as a tinkling tune
The fairground whirl of the once-empty lot
Dancing music for air-conditioned nights
But sudden cool withdrawal absence now
At the height of summer's looming fancy
In a march of fleeting time
Softly proclaims an imminent change for us
What was is now not unquestionably
Like love misplaced in a public garden
Or hope rejected with the close of door
The grayness of Sunday the threat of rain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well said! I like this poem especially the lines that say, What was is now not unquestionably Like love misplaced in a public garden...