Welcome back to the land of grey,
Where people, buildings and faces may,
hand themselves over to this sad gradient,
Only the joy, seldom seen, is radiant...
A blue stripe wavers, breaking forth,
Sunshine? But still wind from the North,
Suncream out, vest tops, sandels, shorts on,
All for those few hours, then abruptly gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem