The Summer has begun earlier, this year,
The Sun is scorching already in March;
A few who lived in plenty, live in fear,
Their clothes are stiffer with excess of starch.
Few trees who seemed as Evergreen, are dry,
God makes some stubbled plants to reappear;
A few who enjoyed life, now seem to cry;
Their end is imminent and surely near.
Few trunks that people cut so oft are green,
And growing fast, so luxuriant in ways;
And things are changing fast, so too the Dean,
More truths are coming out with passing days.
The righteous few will rule the place again;
Despite the heat, God gives showers of Rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem