In the summer
this place is tame,
a serene scene,
a sanctuary of sorts
to the fauna and me.
Birds take to the Ayre
and, effortlessly,
my mind flies here too!
In the winter
it's beyond wild here,
a landscape in defence
against the season
and its weather.
But I'm sheltered,
in the nest of my head,
by the thought of summer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem