Winter in Chicago

It doesn’t seem that cold
And as the day begins
Small tiny dazzling-shinning snow stars to fall
Slowly, patiently
As there’s no rush no hurries
And falls, on and on
Slowly
It is Monday
A blues moon-day
With all the sour that a Monday can have
And snows
But I don’t feel cold or sad or bad
I don’t know what sort of feeling is this
As I walk in the snowed sidewalks
Feet getting wet, step by step
With my books, also getting wet
As the snow falls, on and on
Sometimes I miss home
Sometimes I don’t
As a matter of a poetic fact
I feel warm in the snow
In the freezing streets of Hyde Park
And some sort of empathy, pitifully
Grows up inside me, slowly
Exactly as the falling snow
And the time passes
Step by step through nowhere
Through nowhen
Just like the snow
Some felling grows up
And accumulates inside me.
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Comecando com um poemeto que cometi em ingles.
ps. deslizes no ingles, please! let me know.