I look outside my window,
And see nothing on the ground,
Yet it is very cold,
And the snow is not here,
Yet the trees are bare,
And I don't understand,
How that can be so.
Maybe it's a hybrid season,
Of autumn and winter combined,
So maybe it's wintumn,
If that is what it is,
But God may not intend that so,
But perhaps we humans created a new season,
Which is beyond His reach.
Wintumn is here,
For we had a white Christmas,
But now we will have a green New Year's Day,
And it is quite strange to me,
How this ever came to be.
Maybe global warming created this,
But who really knows?
There was snow all the time,
But now 'tis autumn again,
Or at least it feels like it,
So wintumn it is,
Or perhaps spring came early,
And what we got instead was springter,
But who really knows,
For apparently wintumn is here again,
And it's the weirdest thing in the world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem