It's very unusual weather for the beginning of January, tell the oracle of Puxatawney, that it seems to be spring already in the east.
I am out in sandals and a light sweater, I was sweating in my winter coat the other day I went hiking.
Who can deny the strangeness of this winter, it's topsy turviness. Even the once most embittered critic is scratching their head on this lions tameness
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem