Week after week it shrank and shrank
as the fierce drought fiend drank and drank,
till on the bone-dry bed revealed
the mud peeled;
but now tonight is steamy-warm,
heavy with hint of thunderstorm.
And hark! hark! hoarse and harsh
the throaty croak of the frogs in the marsh:
"Wake! wake! awake! awake!
The drought break!"
but no, that chorus seems to me
more a primeval harmony.
The thunder booms, the floods flow
blended with deeper din below,
and every time the skies crash
the swamps flash!
and the whole place will be tonight
a pandemonium of delight.
He brings excitement and the sense of you-are-there to his poetry about his beloved country
A nice poem the change of climate and welcome sounds of frog is really written in correct meanings and I like the poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The Frog Pool in the spring The pollywogs swim Hatched by the millions From eggs laid bare Now they join others In the watery lair. A fish like creature With bulging head A body and a flick of a tail Growing boldly As they swim about Mindless of the future And the coming rout. Suddenly tiny legs appear A pair up front and others a rear Vestiges of things to come As they swim freely No thought of what's to come. Then one day As the fat tail shrinks away They venture forth Onto terrestrial firma And are there to stay. They've metamorphosed To something new, A creature know to others Who come to view. A frog s S