Towards the end of the Spring with the Summer quite near
It is such a beautiful time of the year
Though the old hill just west of the quiet country town
That was green a few weeks ago now looking brown
The birds pipe and whistle on the sunlit trees
The Summer is coming in the warmth of the breeze
With a temperature high of twenty five degrees
Those who do not enjoy such beautiful weather are quite hard to please
To warn her young of danger nearby
The moorhen in the river utters her shrill cry
In this beautiful place and time of the year
Why wish for Utopia when it is here
Around the flowering shrubs coloured butterflies fly
And they seemingly dance in the clear Summer sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem