The sun beats down so hot,
It makes the air feel tight.
The world outside feels fraught,
With burning, strong sunlight.
But in our homes, a plan,
To keep the heat at bay.
We hang them, every fan,
To chase the heat away.
Like guardians, they stand,
These helpers, cool and bright.
Across the weary land,
They bring a sweet delight.
The power company knows,
The bills will soon climb high.
As summer truly grows,
Beneath a blazing sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem