W HEN misty, misty mornings come,
When wild geese low are flying,
And down along the reedy marsh
The mallard drakes are crying;
When cattle leave the highest hills,
And blackbirds flock together --
By all these signs the hunter knows
Has come good hunting weather.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another visual feast for the reader- the lady knows her hunting season well