it's too hot outside,
and hot winds blow by.
I wait for the ice-cream seller
passing through the lane
who'll have ice-cream of different
shape and size, of not more than five or ten pie.
I'll enjoy the ice-cream in the hot summer day of May
while talking to my friends,
in the beautiful garden of mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem