They say the time for making hay
is when the day is sunny
the fields then buzz with helping hands
that keep the homestead running
The boys when they are just a tad
above the height of tadpoles
are soon recruited for the task
of binding hay in rough rolls
Even the dogs that still can bark
are busy chasing rats
that sneak upon the farmhands' lunch
in shade of wide brimmed hats
The summertime of harvest chores
is full of suntanned joy
and sweat soaked workers come home late
a sound sleep to enjoy
There is a time for making hay
though some must wait at home
when they are judged too young to work
and those too old to roam
And even when a dog gets old
and cannot bark or run
he's not invited to the fields
to hunt or join the fun
They say the time for making hay
is when the day is sunny
the fields then buzz with helping hands
that keep the homestead running.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem