I thought I knew the sun.
I thought I had it tamed.
When it looked dim and weak,
I'd just blow on the flames.
But now my faith is shaken -
perhaps I was mistaken.
It seems the sun has ghosted me.
I miss those rays that roasted me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Its not the distance from the sun, but the angle of its ray, that shortens night and stretches day. Perhaps the sun will heed your call and chase those winter blues away.
I hope so.. it should - but you never know. The Sun thinks he's SO hot these days - you know how conceit is. *shrug*