Giggles and vaults,
Splashes and laps,
The pool churns with children.
The turquoise droplets scatter,
dousing stoic spectators
to the devilish delight
of these sodden water sprites.
They dive, and hurl their
glittering bodies
from the sun-seared apron
into the freshening liquid,
time and time again.
Their energy is boundless.
Their joy is enchanting.
Their voice is Summertime.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem