It's dark and cold. And days are short,
There is no longer shining sun,
Everyone left the tennis cort,
So, me and friends can have no fun.
Nights used to be after the days
That had been full of sunny joys,
And now the day comes from the night -
Now we do not have any choice.
I hate this time of year pictures,
They're grey and dark, there is no charm,
We have to take from cold some mixtures
And can't get up when mornings come.
We have to make an effort also
To do the things we always did
And to be ready for the monsoon...
You are so weak as little kid.
I don't want to live this season,
A lot of stresses visit me,
I always find a stupid reason
To not do any work, you see?
Oh, I am asking for permission
To fall asleep for these three months
And let my friends make my decisions -
Oh, I'm so lazy at first glance!
But I am only weak and tired
And want to have some summer rest,
I hate the winter! And moreover
I must say I don't look my best...
...The poem is to be continued
But not today and not this time -
My nerves need care. And I know not
If I'm sane and what's my clime.