The 'Rooks Poem by Rose Fyleman
The 'Rooks
HIGH in the elm-trees sit the rooks,
Or flit about with busy looks
And solemn, ceaseless caws.
Small wonder they are so intent,
They are the fairies' Parliament
They make the fairy laws.
They never seem to stop all day,
And you can hear from far away
Their busy chatter-chat.
They work so very hard indeed
You'd wonder that the fairies need
So many laws as that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 8:57:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
