Whilst we in the South are enjoying the sun,
Way up in Scotland, they have none.
Whilst we are relishing the sun’s golden glow,
North of the border, they’re expecting some snow.
From us, they’re experiencing a different day:
Our skies are blue – their skies are grey.
We’re sporting t-shirts and shorts in twenty degrees,
Whilst they’re sporting parkas, so they do not freeze.
The weather there is very different from ours:
On a midsummer day, they’re using snow-ploughs.
For me it would be a pretty major surprise
To see snowflakes falling from summer skies.
I’m really glad that I don’t live there,
As for snow in summer, I do not much care.
Snow in July? I’ve never heard such a thing;
Who knows what weird weather the future will bring?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great is the creation of God that he provided a nature distinct and dynamic