Snow was flaking all around
then gently piling on the ground.
Just tiny puffs when floating free,
but stuck together, I could see
it's like one voice that singing for us
or a lot, like in a chorus.
I rolled some up and stacked it high
to make a happy snowman guy.
I'm glad it's that way just with snow
and that's not how we children grow,
'cause on a warm and sunny day,
my snowman slowly melts away.
As he melts, he gets so thin.
I wish, like me, that he had skin.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem