The waves are getting smaller by the hour;
where does the spirit of this day goes now it’s hot?
It flew away with loud complaining seagulls
besotted by their need for sadness now it’s hot.
The ladies wanting to go in the cooling water
don’t dare to show their white parts now it’s hot,
they lie on itching towels craving ice cream
besotted by their need for lightness now it’s hot.