What April showers mean to me,
Are flooding rains; an inland sea.
A babbling brook that starts to roar
When April showers start to pour.
Above the world, when springtime starts,
Our summertime down here departs,
And dried up earth soaks up the rain,
The grass is growing green again.
The farmers get another chance,
A while before the frosts advance.
A few months pass, and all is right.
Then suddenly one chilly night
The frost descends upon the ground,
Chilling all the grass around.
Four months pass since April came,
And all around is not the same.
The rain has gone, our grass is dead,
There's nothing in the flower bed.
Now we are feeling cold at heart,
But very soon the frosts depart.
And soon we see a longer day.
The farmers here are making hay.
December comes, it's very hot.
All our plants begin to rot.
There's not a cloud within the sky,
The grass that came begins to die.
Three months pass with no change yet,
Then April comes and all is wet,
Making all an inland sea.
That's what April means to me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm getting a real liking for all your poems George I think my poems are on the same sort of lines as yours. Sincerely Ernestine Northover