By the last rays of the winter sun
I seem to smell the signs of Spring.
Those ewes we'd bring
Into the shelter of this lofty barn:
Its back turned aganst the gales,
Clean straw beds among the bales.
Young lambs learn quick to stand,
To find the ewes that fuss around
And knock them off to stand again
On spindly legs like drunken men.
I remember all these happy things
And later saw them dance in rings.
Thanks for the memory, it was a lovely sight in spring, to see the small white lambs skip and jump.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I've never seen this sight with my own eyes, but I've seen it through the eyes of this lovely poem. Thanks