Long after the sun has gone down,
the pavement still steams and fumes.
The leaves hang loosely, almost dead;
all movement has come to a halt.
Even though the windows are wide
these houses look tired and tryst.
Even rock and stone break a sweat
in these weeks of humongous heat.
While ice cream and fountains entertain during the day
and a lover´s kiss remains refreshing
the night shows, undistracted, then just
how strong the force of summer is,
paralyzing these sanctuaries and souls.
I adore this city in the summertime
with its rivers and banks and
primitive pomp and
restless chatter and
short-lived proposals and
historic scars and
changing landscapes and
But more than that, I crave a swim
in the silver pond
or a run in the forests and fields
to the end of the path and the next one,
because while summer in this city is charming and sweet
nothing can top August in nature.