Listening to the sound of summer passing by
Sitting alone in the shade of a tree on top of a hill
I watch the clouds bearing your face in the sky
Slowly drifting away, with a couple of birds on its tail
The grass are dancing to the windy blow
Waving like fingers, inviting me to follow
The sun shines warmly through the passing clouds
It is a fine day, for a while, to forget about tomorrow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem