What's the matter with you, Summer?
Why do you cry and don't laugh?
There are no fires
in the fields
and your sun doesn't scare,
my mouth is not parched
with oppressive heat,
the grass in the meadow
is not yellow yet
and the sea water
keeps the cold of spring.
Why this year
your face is so sad?
That gentle wind
seems to be hiding
and the autumn rains
do not want to wait.
The frightened swallow
flies around,
it has just arrived
and it's about to go back.
It could be a whim
or even a joke
but I beg you don't do it
don't do it again
because like a swallow
without you
I would only want to flee.

14.8.'14