The currawongs on the gums piping and dark rain clouds darken the sky
And a gray fog cloaks the wooded hillside on this Winter's day in July
And a lone raven caws on the drenched wattle and every where looks rather gray
Yet Spring with each day is approaching and towards the hills she wings her way.
The reservoirs are slowly filling and the flood is bank high in the drains
But with the weather people happy they welcome the drought breaking rains
No need now for water restrictions and it could be a beautiful Spring
And soon in the woods of old Sherbrooke the birds will build their nests and sing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem