Sometimes at night
I pop out the window screen
climb out onto my roof
and look up at the stars.
Especially when it’s cold.
Because when the world is cold
it is more deliberate
more thoughtful.
Sounds are softer
lights are dimmer
everything moves slower
On my roof
in the cold
is the best place to think.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem