Summer is mere a dream, I think
To the thirsty travellers of May.
Once, in a year, when the sun peeps bright
They come to the beach, and happily lay;
As the sea, then, straightly wink
To hold them fast see her evening sight.
Elders and their happy young children,
When gigantic waves lash upon their feet
Like a swirling storm, jump on upstream
And a host of sea-gulls them meet;
So, after the year's agony have been driven
They return home in whimisical whim.
As they, once, sit on Limestones beside Tamarisk
Or, spend many things among gallopers-
All those, to their highest memory, call- - on and on,
Until they name them 'Our dears'.
So, travellers, year round, can brisk
Or enpeak summer's many-folded crown-
Again and again and again...
06/15/2015
[ Published in his self-published book "Some Suitable Words", in 2018]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem