Who could write a poem in summertime,
who’s got a brighter or warmer rhyme
the rays ain’t just burnt?
Words are not blest
with defence or breast
Nature as a man learnt
to do. So there weren’t
hands when i sought them
there was I and am
and the inclement weather
should joint us whether
by rain or sun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem